I probably should have cut it off when he started putting queso on my nipples, but within ten minutes I was a self-serve burrito bar.
She's in the middle of blacking out but is singing Mariah carey songs. Hitting every note.
We were confused who drove until we went outside and her cupholders were torn out of the dash and laying on the ground
STOP CALLING ME LADY CHLAMYDIA
I think I have vodka in my lungs
I'm still waiting for my blazer that I left at your apartment, you owe me a blowjob for every day from Thursday on that it's late.
It was the textbook our-balls-touched-while-engaged-in-a-threesome-with-our-bosses-wife conversation.
It amazes and alarms me I'm not shocked to read that.
We should hook up after this. Laugh or look horrified to say yes.
YOU WOULD BE SEEING ME. IN MY KITCHEN. BENDING OVER MY OVEN. MAKING YOU CAKE.
Wait, that's an option?
Unintentional and slightly frustrating adventures are basically all I'm good for. Expect heart palpitations, cheap food, and homeless men serenading us.
Dad's already had 6 Zionist conspiracy rants and moms trying to detect any "dark energies" in my soul. You have 4 days before you return to this shit: ENJOY THEM
I thought 5 times was beyond my capabilities but her tongue was like a penis defibrillator. Clear!
Don't let me publish my memoir unless "hurt my ankle drunk irish dancing" is at least the title of a chapter because that is really the whole story of my life.
you should never start the day with a boob text. It can only go downhill from there
My house is about to be spotless and the only person visiting is the plumber and not the porno kind.
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