6:33 AM: I'm drunk at this time of morning.
Someone apparently named 'eleaw' just text me asking if I had fun last night.
I have just disproved the common belief that it is impossible to have mediocre sex in a fire truck.
The fire in my vagina flames on. Fucking terrible firefighter
Sunday is the day of rest.
As in, whatever liquor is left after last night, you have to drink the rest.
She rode an inflatable shark down the stairs. Viva shark week.
Wrapped in a blanket, just ate a whole party pizza. All my dreams are coming true and you don't even care.
let's make a party pact right now just as precaution for this trip: ill make sure you don't piss yourself if you make sure I don't bang my cousins friends. deal?
Sorry, but when you makeout with a guy in a panda suit, you know something has to change.
We need a bunch of roses, some chocolate, 2 cops, a mariachi band, and a thermometer
I just want to be covered in whipped cream and spanked, is that too much to ask?
How the fuck can he download so much porn but not know how to find the Skype app?
Welcome to the club of "Sick of cleaning up actual shit." We meet on the 3rd Sunday of each month. Bring your ceremonial viking helmet.
She wore her engagement ring the whole time we fucked. I hate her fiancee, so it was cool
I have an empty apartment, Chinese food, and fresh batteries in my vibrator. There's nothing on this earth that could lure me out tonight.
I did something very bad. More specifically, my boss.
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