Like all of my pajamas are shirts of guys I shacked with in college
when your hometown is famous for abortion clinic bombings, hurricanes, and jude law's newest bastard, its probably time to move.
the 3rd commandment: and god said, if you buy a handle.. you must finish it.
Oh and apparently TSA has to open your present from my family or the terrorists win
he was persistant. I supposedly owe him a bj from high school.
easter eggs filled with ecstasy. it's what jesus would do.
They nicknamed me the gargoyle. Sex with me is getting gargoyled. The last one I fucked yelled "gargoyle me" for dirty talk. I think fucking me is part of their pledging initiation. Somewhat OK with this.
the water pistols in the freezer are full of voddka.
UPDATE: WE WILL BE HITTING THE BATMAN PINATA WITH A SWORD
New level of stoned. My Terry's Chocolate Orange didn't 'whack-and-unwrap' so I ate it like an apple.
Like not in a "I wanna have sex with you way" more like a "I wanna cuddle your mustache way"
the cab driver said that we weren't the worst shit show he'd ever seen, CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!!
So heartbroken my rebound has a rebound
You ninja crawled over five sleeping guys to get in my room at 6 in the morning to wake me up for sex
...and I think that may just be my favorite moment in our fuckbuddyship
No, and she still hasn't answered me...I get a whole series of text messages about Guatemalan anal bleaching but no fucking answer to my question.
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