We planned for the zombie apocalypse. In great detail. Of course there was booze involved.
He said my breasts were God's way of making up to him for all the shit he's had to endure in his life.
Sad news: I might have to institute a "once-per-day" policy on getting trashed downtown. Sorry, reputation.
Am I allowed to say that I would really enjoy blowing you again? Or does that fall into the "nothing changes between us" catagory?
I don't not like him. It's just wierd talking to him because we both know I fucked his wife.
I'm pretty sure I told everyone in the bar I hadn't had sex in five months. And then I offered everyone calamari.
I remember you licked my face and said that's all you're getting
I woke up with my panties in the cat food dish, and everything covered in honey and bruises.
I've come to the conclusion all of your awkward and complicated male encounters could easily be intercepted by a man town Yankee candle and a vibrator. Sleep on that tell me your thoughts in the morning. Sweet dreams.
Also we had sex while listening to fleetwood Mac on vinyl. Like the 70s called and told me to fuck off
He had a hook in his ceiling. I think I'm in love!
We were covered in sweat and glitter, making out onstage, in front of everyone. I think it was a good night.
Getting paid in weed to watch a pregnant adult with cooking skills is the TITS
I woke up this morning to pee and six dollar bills fell out of my underwear. I guess that lap dance just bought me lunch.
Hey. Did I get punched in the face last night?
Yeah. I told you I would and you didn't believe me.
Randomize
