also referred to as T.P.S. (Toddler Penis Syndrome)
I just woke up to my FedEx of contacts I've been waiting for for about a week and my hungover ass went to the bathroom and used beer instead of contact solution.
Packed at 6 am completely wasted. Damage assessment: 12 pairs of socks (no underwear), a flashlight, 3 shorts, shot glass, 8 sweaters, puff paint, one sneaker.
Just looking for some anal play. An attempting to read atonement. The highbrow/lowbrow divide is striking.
The moral of the story is do not hire me because everything will end up smelling like pickles and I will not sufficiently clean it up.
You told me that you were mad me because I wouldn't let you 'explore my castle'. Then you said I smelled like a hospital and passed out.
Didn't you used to babysit him?
18 years ago I helped him into his clothes. Today he helped me out of mine.
How is it that I, the only one that didn't drink last night, was the only one puking out the car window?
There were 7 of us cowering in the kitchen because you were swinging a giant, pink double headed dildo around like a nunchuk and hitting anyone who came near you with it.
Like I blink, and he's face first in my vagina.
I'm a fuck boy trapped in a single mom's body.
Okay first of all fuck you and everything you stand for because Taco Bell is amazing.
You chased a rabbit then knocked on a police car and asked the cop "if he saw where that little bastard went."
LOOK AT HOW SMOOTH THIS BITCH IS
thank you for the vibrator recommendation, i've come six times today and it's only noon
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