Her cooch smelled like a combination of bacon and sweat.
you had a panic attack, pissed yourself, and started crying. you never go above the kiddie level of my lil bros schools haunted house ever again.
round 2?
EVER.
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
We've been friends for six months, when do my benefits kick in?
I've officially decided that whoever created hate sex should be on my christmas card list.
He tied my whole arm, in its cast, to the headboard first. He mumbled something about safe, sane, and consensual?
Well, I now know how many glasses of wine it takes for me to fuck my neighbor.
I'm going to get like 25 drinks at their wedding and just leave them sitting around or give them to hobos.
I don't know, Alex. I don't know. I lost my keys, my debit card, my makeup bag, broke my purse, had to have someone cut my shoe off, I have no idea where my costume is. I woke up next to the biggest douchebag I know and made out with this other guy while SIMULTANEOUSLY talking on the phone to the guy I'm talking to...
Your headphones are on the door knob and I left you a burger on the door step.
Some toppless girl just walked past me in the hall and gave me half a carton of smokes. I have never been more aroused.
Remember when I made fun of you when you ran out of toilet paper on your brother's birthday and had to use coffee filters? Guess what happened today
fucked him on the porch to avoid the chanting that always happens when we leave the bedroom. backfired when a group of freshman walked by and started screaming like fucking babies.
i've got three words. i. was. spanked.
I like how I can go from sucking dick in the my basement to singing along to veggie tales with my family in a span of 10 minutes.
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