I don't want to talk about it. He was like the Little Engine that couldn't get me off.
if my spotter knew I was listening to the Wicked soundtrack on my iPod, I wouldn't even be mad if he dropped the barbell on my throat
we were on a sandy mattress. i was wearing a sweatshirt with a poodle on it and eating a whopper jr. i wouldn't have fucked me either.
Everyone makes mistakes, yours just means you will forever be known as the chick that tried to steal a cheese plate from the funeral.
The last thing I remember is him grabbing my ass and telling me he knew where the jello shots were, so I followed him.
He recognized me by my ass from about 15 yards away. I must have a REALLY nice ass.
I was going to make out with him...then he licked syrup off the kitchen floor.
He left my apartment when I broke up with him just as my booty call was walking in. It was a little awkward...
Nothing says Merry Christmas like gifting a bottle of rum and finishing it yourself then leaning over at the dinner table to puke it back up.
I feel like I deserve an award for facing my fear of penises in my face.
Apparently she almost had an affair at Outback Steakhouse, details to follow when I get home but the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree
It must have been good head...he put down the Xbox controller
Just had a threesome with a married couple.
Stop living my dream.
Let it be known that on this day, the 26th of October, in the year 2016, I successfully put both of his balls in my mouth at once.
thanks for supporting my whoreish tendencies
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