So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
lets have sex before this no shave november shit gets outta hand.
I have a critically important question to ask.
Why does watermelon-flavoured candy exist?
my debit card account is gonna say movie, movie, ice cream, movie, cheese fries, get a fucking life, movie
I definitely managed to work the word "aforementioned" into the conversation.. At least I'm an intelligent sexter.
I fed the cats at 7 am, made her eggs, gave her oral, and now I'm helping her clean and baking her brownies. Cosmos got nothing on me.
I don't think I'm emotionally ready for this blow job.
Which genius got me a voicemail of myself puking?
I've got a whole match.com system. Triple book. First dates always get the 6pm happy hour drinks slot. 8pm dinner goes to a girl where I think I can close the deal. 10pm slot goes to the sure thing in case of emergency, but 6 can always trump 8 and 8 always trumps 10. Just blame it on a dead iPhone battery.
That, my friend, is how I bang 50 new girls a year. Not luck at all. It's science and statistics.
Idk I somehow continue to get laid by pulling my dick out and reciting the 3 world country orphan kid commercials
Like I would feel weird too if you just cancelled our wedding, cut off all your hair and started twerking everywhere
You brought string cheese to the strip club
YOU DESERVE A GUY WITH A NORMAL DICK DONT SETTLE FOR ANYTHING LESS
He fed me Girl Scout cookies while I was still tied up...what did I do right?
My vagina! What have you done to it?
Blessed it my child.
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