we black-lighted her bedspread and it looked like a jackson pollock painting.
Tears do usually get me what I want. That and oral sex.
Apparently 151 is to me what spinach is to popeye.
I was hoping we just happened to wake up naked and I hadn't fucked him.... no such luck.
After the concert, I paid a cab to drive me around the city so I could shout "dc highfive!" at everyone who passed for an hour and a half.
It turns out tequila bombs is really code for straight shots of tequila…who would have guessed?
He only likes me when I'm naked and I don't like being around him clothed. It's the perfect relationship.
So not the biggest tits he had his cock between. He could have lied.
Admittedly shitfaced... I have two questions. 1)why is the fan in my bathroom on? (Sub-text: is there a ghost?). 2) is your underwear really argyle?
I saw it and almost just was like "Ice breaker: your penis is massive" but I didn't.
I never saw such an emotional argument over yellow vs. spicy mustard.
I'm in my onesie attempting to spoon-feed myself cold soup. I'm playing freeze tag with my hangover. My hangover's winning.
I think the God that I only kind of believe in, definitely hates me.
A drag queen just ate a dollar out of my ass. I don't know which one of us has hit rock bottom
In honor of Randy Savage we're wearing spandex and handing out slim jim's with option to suplex. Get behind it
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