I've blown a few things in my day
and I'm going to name my autobiography "blow jobs with enthusiasm are the best"
I'm naming my autobiography "Reasons Not to Date Girls From Texas."
this will be a night to untag.
i just opened a bottle of wine with my dads power tools
The guy I wanted to make out with just got beat up, let's roll.
I'm soaked in beer, and I think blood. Why did we think we could tap a keg with a hammer?
we didnt even make it to the club...the two of us were sharing a plastc bag in the taxi puking into it.
I'm crying, drinking alone and applying for jobs tonight. I figure the alcohol will lower my job standards.
Putting a positive pregnancy test next to my condoms in my drawer so I remember why I always need to use condoms
If I asked you to guess what I'm doing right now how many guesses would it take to get to really high eating an apple bumping techno
first time i ever mailed panties back to a fuck buddy. what better of a way to say its over
My gut feeling that we had reached a new level of intimacy last night was confirmed early this morning when you sleep farted on penis.
There's a quesaritto in the oven. Neither of us have been to Taco Bell in 3 weeks.
I met his parents. We played twister. My boob popped out.
His penis is the only thing worth pursuing but all the baggage attached isn't.
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