He bought me a flower. He's totally getting head every day for a week.
Oh god. It's my first day here, I'm still drunk and somebody just drifted in a forklift. I'm going to die.
I'd really appreciate it if we could dress up as pilgrims and indians for the thanksgiving eve bar crawl
It reminded me of the time my mother gave my Bailey's in my stocking when I was 14.
My professor complimented me on the well drawn penis on my face then asked if I would like a seat closer to the garbage can.
She told me that when she orgasms she just lays there like that baby from teenmom. Who the fuck says that
You are right. The scrape marks on her ass are from her breaking the doggy door by crawling through it.
you were leaning up against the wall pulling your shirt up asking girls to dance on you. your courage to do that is both admirable and frightening.
And my only real exposure to Russian culture is you and Internet porn.
I am the sex elephant in the room. Again.
Lets just say my thoughts when getting dressed this morning was "vagina friendly" options
I somehow turned head, shoulders, knees, and toes into a sobriety test
He wants to pour butter pecan flavored coffee creamer on me and lick it off. I'm like, dude, gross. French Vanilla ok? Ugh.
One a scale of one to hella drunk, how gracefully can I make it down those stairs
If work found out I was using THEIR paper to write Karate Kid fanfic I'd never hear the end of it.
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