At some point I made a semi-conscious decision that i was okay with sleeping in my own vomit.
So I'm about to go to his house and have "I'm really sorry for cheating on you last night" sex
I'm at about main and main street
Not a chance. She stuck her hand under my kilt and she told the whole table I was indeed commando. She broke all the rules.
You were fucked up like a footballbat trying to eat gum off your shoe. And that wasn't even the nights lowest point.
You haven't lived until you've watched a retriever try to bring back the condom you just threw in its master's garbage
Let me tell you the story of bicurious george
You crowd surfed from beer pong into the bathroom where you spent the rest of the night, also I have your wallet
I'm sorry, you're actually right. Ostrich racing happens, and they're ridden like a horse. Bewildered and distraught.
I damn near set my vagina on fire. WHILE The Flaming Lips played in the background. Intensely apropos.
I made a joke about The Hemingway being a really boring sex position where you blandly describe all the action and then kill yourself after you orgasm. He stopped responding. I've GOT to stop talking to everyone like they're you.
My move is emasculating men with my superior intellect and it's not as charming when they can't see my huge rack.
Why is there a waffle in the knife drawer?
The real question is why are there knives in the waffle drawer.
He just got out of surgery, almost died from shooting him self with an arrow.
he's fucking insane. he's worse than me. is that even possible? I'm only with him because his dick is huge. I need Jesus.
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