I'm pretty sure I have jizz on the back of the dress I wore to church. Awesome.
He just kept muttering to himself "stabby stabby stabby stabby" while we were boning. I will never be boning him again.
It was 5 a.m. and we found him making margaritas with nyquil...
i wanna meet her so much more now that I know she got toed in a hottub.
Standards? I'm sitting on his couch eating microwaved ramen wearing his wife's t-shirt. I don't remember what having standards even feels like.
Well. It was around 3 or 4 in the morning. He ran into the woods. Wearing moccasins. Holding an extension cord. He was trying to catch a deer. That about sums up the awesomeness of the night.
Well. I went to a frat party where they mixed gin and Mountain Dew. My kingdom for some olives and vermouth.
so i might have figured out why that girl isn't talking to me...I'm 90% confident I didn't give her a pillow when she stayed over >.>
So... crashing at the hot bartender's place is not a solid marital decision.
We've given up. My vagina is tired of constant lonely nights and disappointments. This is our retirement.
Ones vagina should not have the same slogan as a can of Pringles.
He's going to wonder why I have burn marks on my asshole
He's very cute and has a totally sit-able face.
I knew it was all downhill from there when the straight vodka I was drinking tasted like water.
Sometimes I feel like my vagina has a photographic memory of his penis. It sucks that he got engaged....
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