My sheets look like a crime scene.
Oh the joys of strong arming a man into exclusivity
It's like salsa. But with balls in it. I like to call it balsa
I found him with a guitar and his kitten in his room. He was singing a song he'd titled "you're a cat". Guess what most of the lyrics were...
I'm at his house right now making him pancakes to compensate for YOU not giving him a handjob last night. You're welcome.
He wanted to bang in the work van while we were on shift together. He convinced me with "It's like the Scooby Doo van but looks nothing like the Scooby Doo van."
Even though he had a fractured vertebrae, the sex was still phenomenal. Better than normal actually. I hope the vertabrae never heals.
WHY WERE YOU COOKING NAKED?
WHY WERE YOU SLEEPING ON MY COUCH?
My doctor said I can only have one drink at a time, ever, from now on. My life has officially started its decline.
Plus my fingers were hella swollen from eating all these cured meats so it was like I was given it to her with Hulk Hands on
I felt like I was selling my soul to satan but then I realized I already pawned it for drug money
you know your booty call is really trying when he offers to pay the toll for the bridge you have to cross to get to his house
But he said I was unpatriotic for not having sex with him. What was I suppose to say to that?
can you bring the lube to algebra tomorrow
I'm sorry I walked in on you guys, but all I heard from outside was her screaming "Dive, dive!". Sex was my last guess for what was going on in there.
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