My mom just bought me $200 worth of booze on the condition that I promise I won't have to go to rehab eventually
All he did was lie there and used his hands to keep pace. He was like the metronome of sex.
so i finally decided to ask her out. she started mumbling, then she puked on me. i think i'll try again when she's sober
So i learned you can't hair-of-a-dog jaeger hangovers.
No more scars from drunken holidays, people are starting to notice.
You probably don't remember. You were drunk and getting your tits drummed on like haitian bongos in a voodoo ritual.
Look, the fact that I didn't kick him out and rip your clothes off speaks very highly of me.
I have 39 hot sauces from Chipotle
It's like earning obesity badges
I think we r still a few steps from ex sex. In fact, that's never going to happen. I'm just saying on the seething-chemical-fire-of-emotional-distress-to-post -relationship-intercourse scale, I'm closer to fucking than throttling. Progress is fun.
He's in grad school at Harvard. I suppose that means my vagina is now smarter than I am.
he showed me his third nipple on the first date. I might have low to no standards, but my god.
My arms in a cast, how am I supposed to have sex with only one hand?
more importantly I need two hands to eat pie
Regardless I WANT TO BE YOUR SEX DISPENSARY. that is like the career I was born for.
Alright, I've had enough of this good girl shit. Tonight you either blackout or backout.
He eats kale on the regular. Do I look like a bitch that wants to eat kale. No. Give me some Boston market.
Randomize
