Once you see the odd facial expressions and noises a guy makes while he is furiously beating off on top of you, it kind of puts things into perspective.
It's refreshing to see you in something that is stained with something other than vomit and spilled alcohol.
He's like the houdini of condoms. I never even realized he put one on before we fucked. he's magical.
screw it, I'll just be a stripper until next August when then are looking for suitable teachers to teach the future of America. it's like a feel good movie just a little out of order and im a dude.
On the back of that comment, I've formed a theory that as a result of my brainwashing your drunk self actually believes that beards are your calling.
You know, you have a good excuse now if you have a poor performance. Just say "what do you expect? I took a paintball to the DICK!!"
I feel that my cleavage set an unattainably high bar for 2013.
I just really hate taking care of things... If I can't fill it with liquor I'm not sure what to do with it.
actually there are like 49038098 people in the bathroom for no reason. Singing My Heart Will Go On and pseudo fighting.
I'm drunk enough to know I'm texting you and sober enough to know what I'm saying to you
I bought a box of wine on my way home. I figured if I’m going to be broke during the holidays, I might as well be able to drink about it.
I called you daddy and let you stick things in my butt, I am a damn 11.
This whole pope visit thing is ruining me having sex.
I broke another vibrator the other day. Abstinence is not for me.
I'm waiting for you in a manthong right now.
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