The child next door sounds like he's having vigorous sex in the backyard and it's making me very, very uncomfortable. I don't want to look.
It's 10am. I'm hungover wearing a flyers jersey and a phillies hat and eating a cheesesteak. I'm not the only one. Best city ever.
She greeted me with a new giants jersey and an opening day blowjob. this is true love.
I'll wind up on his doorstep with a confused "oh you live here" expression, a feigned ankle injury and a seemingly fortunately placed bottle of tequila. I don't care what it takes: HIS MOUTH WILL BE ON MOUTH.
Drinking vodka and pirating music in the library. Welcome to finals week.
No more. You can't have nice things, and vodka is a nice thing.
I think the saddest part about my sex life is that most of it is pity sex.
Woke up on the couch with one cowboy boot on and a hat over my crotch. God bless texas.
I hate to stick you with the friend but I did all the work.
Currently putting together my outfit for this weekend, AKA a poster board that says "I'll cook you breakfast and do all your laundry, take me home." On front and back
So that prostitue I banged at Steve's bachelor party just texted and invited me to a BBQ at her parents. Never again doubt the power of the cock piercing.
He also told me he would eat mozzarella sticks before having sex with me so I'm mad at him.
So apparently it wasn't anything really bad, it's hemorrhoids. Which is the medical word for butthurt. I actually have ass ointment.
New Orleans is just like you. Dirty but beautiful and will always have a special place in my heart
I was 40 minutes late to work today because I was getting fucked. Walked in to discover that it's apparently performance review day. Employee of the year.
Randomize
