It's an acquired taste. Like keystone. Or caviar.
It's almost like sex with her has gotten boring... like it's still good, but the creativity is lacking... it's times like these that i wish she still wanted me to gag her
we were fucking and all I could think about is how my silly bands were glowing in the dark.
I really think we need to get on this Charlie Sheen bandwagon
you know it takes a lot for me to use utensils conservatively
constantly striving to make life awkward and more complicated, one drunk bone at a time.
Just drove past the dude that came in your sock
I'm sorry I peed on the bushes at your law firm. Is there anyway you could defend me for the ticket I'm about to get?
This is your morning-after text courtesy of your very confused friend!! :) To discuss "what the hell were you trying to tell me last night," press 1. To laugh over your drunken antics, press 2. To pretend like none of it even happened (or to respond with concurrent confusion because you have no idea), press 3.
I am lonely and hungry. I need a girlfriend, but I'd settle for my mom.
I am eating a king sized snickers in the strip club. Good morning.
Moral of the story: next time my plans include you and bourbon, I'm packing a toothbrush.
The orgasm I got from him made me feel almost as good as I imagine the girls in the tampon commercials feel.
Are you texting me while pooping again?
I'm also playing fetch with the dog
Ugh. All the good hoes are in their third trimester.
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