So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
yes, the chronicles of narnia is exactly what happens when you do crack inside of a wardrobe.
So does it count as really great road-head if he ran over 3 mailboxes before realizing he was off the road?
1.) where are you? 2.) you making meatballs? 3.) Meatballs for sex?
It wasn't the stripper that gave you the hickey but I just figured out who did
Want me to give your number to an army recruiter?
I don't know... do you want me to use your number to sell used gay porn on Craigslist?
I sense beginning a prank war would end badly for both of us.
We team puked and then made sex like wild monkeys. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.
I miss you more than I would miss junk food if I went on a diet. And you've seen me eat, you know how desperate I'd be.
My dating life has become some fucked up hydra of dicks; you cut one off and two pop up in its place.
He didn't even realize I was drunk. He probably just thought I loved Torchwood so much that I no longer knew how to use my thumbs
Can I just skip the lesson I have planned for tomorrow and just teach my students about Prohibition using my impending hangover?
This is why american education is failing
He was so aggressive it felt like he was giving my boob a root cannal
So you're not opposed to us ever having sex again? Because it just seems like such a waste to let a penis like yours go.
I wasn't that gone.
Dude, you cried and said how sorry you were when we asked why you had the dip.
I was giving him head and he slipped one of those hats with propellors on top on my head.
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