My mom just drunkenly told me i was conceived in the back of a car, at a Bon Jovi concert.
Our phone convo was getting intense. Then I heard her say "quiet mommy is trying to have phone sex"
No, you dont understand, he literately fucked me into a new hairstyle, quite nice too.
My boobs grew. They knew we were going to vegas.
I keep reminding myself that my vagina isn't a homeless shelter.
I've been buying my puppy dildos for chew toys. I can't wait till a girl comes over and my dog is gnawing on a giant black cock
I think I've just evolved into some kind of vodka fueled monster
I hope our bodies realize that workaholics starts tomorrow and will be well enough to handle the hell we are going to put them through. amen.
I'm like an air traffic controller of women. It's a very similar job. Well spaced and gentle landings are good. When they meet, it's bad. Explosions bad. Dying screaming burning children bad.
My sober self will be embarrassed tomorrow. For now I am laughing my ass off.
I've got your keys and your panties. You can have one back. Your play honeybuns.
I Woke up still tied to the bed. I would say, it was a good night!
fuck sobriety. I want to wake up tomorrow in a park or some shit.
I texted him: “Come over for the Super Bowl. I promise lots of scoring.”
My divorce is turning into a porn script
Of course he did! You’ve seen my tits, you know he didn’t stand a chance!
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