all I know is if I don't watch spice world right now there will be a firefight.
I called him Han Solo during sex, he looked at me like he was mortified then I realized he came.
I can totally hide my daquiri in my sling.
Listen, what he fails to understand is that the Olive Garden does not equal pussy.
You wouldn't let me clean the puke off your face because I'd mess up your cat whiskers. Now that's dedication.
I'm now at that point where it just feels natural to do a few shots of whisky with breakfast and then head to work
I think i smell like relationship. That's my problem.
He has pizza coupons and a hammer next to his toilet.
And is it bad that I haven't talked to guys who I haven't already dated? I feel like a recycle bin.
This guy punched out a light, puked in the sink, stole the mailbox, then tried to tell ME that I had to leave the party... Then his dog shit on the floor.
Well be careful man. Be careful. Wear shoes in the house. Safety. Safety first, then teamwork.
We got naked and peed in the garden. Something about bonding with our new house
Took his shirt off. Announced he was Jesus. Threw up. Asked me to cuddle him to sleep. And then tried to kiss me. Typical Saturday night.
It's like the dark age of my sex life being stuck here
If you're not my stylist, having sex with me, or agreeing to have sex with me don't fucking touch my hair.
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