So right when I was pulling her underwear off with my teeth, she told me, "Stick your penis in my 'nanners." Needless to say, there was no penis-'nanner interaction.
He talks to me in this sweet I know you might be pregnant voice.
You told the entire McDonalds staff that I was a whore and that you didn't want your french fries cooked.
He left me a five minute voicemail apologizing for chasing me with a meat beater. I'm actually not sure what that means.
So far we've hooked up on a pool table, on a public bathroom counter and now in a little league baseball dugout. We haven't even made to a house yet.
I'm soaked in beer, and I think blood. Why did we think we could tap a keg with a hammer?
If you were wondering whether I accidentally FaceTime called the undergrad who works for me in lab during a particularly graphic blow job last night, then the answer is yes.
She has a boyfriend. But if he's a decent human being he understands blowjobs don't count as cheating with her. Keeping those miracles to himself is a crime against humanity.
I may have made out with a tranny last night, which, if I don't get fired for everything else that happened, really makes last night epic.
That's like the cock version of a mortal kombat fatality.
The topic of sex in the jamba banana suit has come up on multiple occasions. We're just waiting for a moment to try it out.
I don't think he liked your vagina hand signal
It went from a "chill game of beer pong" to "absinthe body shots and a tits parade" in literally two minutes.
Told you inviting her was a good idea.
Dont care about too tired for sex, thank you for leaving your laser pointer. I have now determined both my cats are stupid.
Want to meet at a cool spot and just park like cops side-by-side and you can eat some potatoes and I can smoke a cigarette in your face?
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