I woke up under a table, with a huge Mexican sombrero, a box of 120 doughnuts and a bloody nose. It all screams success.
There are paw prints all over my ceiling.
My lab manual has instructions for making home wine. Room project?
This is going to be BYOBM Vegas trip: Bring Your Own Bail Money.
That's your penis' name. I've always referred to it as Alejandro secretly.
We used the solo cup bag for her hair tie. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Strip club for my birthday. And none of this discrimination shit. We're going to a guys one and girls one. Go get your singles.
This Halloween will be different. I'm just here to get shitfaced, not troll around looking for slutty nun pussy.
You don't understand!!! BACON ROSES!!! Why are you not more excited?!
Dude, don't put me in a suit and feed me liquor; I'll never go home.
It's simple. He fucks me at his place and I fuck him at my place. It's like man of the house gets to top.
How do you tell a woman that you are seeing that the scars on your back are from her awesome-in-bed little sister?
My sweat smells like Wild Turkey. I'm really feeling the holiday spirit.
I'm actually glad the whole thing's over now. It's exhausting to fake a pregnancy.
Imagine not having to fake it.
Yeah, I should never have kids, probably.
stop texting me about your public sex.
says she who narrated getting eaten out in a movie theatre over text to me
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