Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
I used the word aforementioned in my paper. That's an automatic A in community college.
I pulled out and her Nuva ring was around my dick... It was like I won a carnival game for adults... I asked her where my big stuffed bear was
He's only a little bit crosseyed.
I think this is one situation where "a little bit" doesn't mean much.
Alright. I will breast feed the first person to get here.
Holy hangover, going dancing with family good idea, taking the last shot with the transvestite bar owner not so much...
Girl. There is the cutest old gay here. He's approximately 100 years old and kind as shit.
I'm not worried. All I have to do is not be the drunkest painter at 8:00. Golden.
His dick is as big as my 7" heels... Awkwardness is forgotten.
Oh and apparently something happened that was related to "THIS IS SPARTA" but no one will tell me what I did.
So I'm going to blame my boobs hurting on that.
I need you to be best friend brutally honest about whether or not I can go into public like this.
Costco cheesecake and whisky. A night made in heaven
I've made a new rule for socializing in the winter: if it doesn't involve me orgasming or getting drunk I can't make it
Your mom has reinvented the use of a ping pong ball.
Just bought shot glasses from the thrift store. I think the guy buying a winter coat was even judging me.
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