My Hamptons summer hookup resume reads like a walk-in clinic waiting list.
Tidal wave of highness just hit. Find shelter and catnip. gloves. zebra striped car washes.
there's sperm and chicken noodle soup everywhere
This was my thought process as I drunkenly ran home: Whoa! I'm going so FAST! Why don't I run EVERYWHERE! ALL THE TIME! Then I peed in a bush and passed out on the ground.
So basically you were a dog.
She just laid there, sucking on a piece of steak, with the most content look on her face. Just before she passed out (steak still on her mouth) she said the cat box needed to be emptied
Last I remember we played rock paper scissors for who would fuck the guy with cowboy boots on and I won..
I didn't have the heart to tell him that the reason my vagina was so "prelubricated" was because I had just had another gentleman caller an hour earlier. So, when he commented about how turned on I appeared, I just went with it.
I knew us throwing ourselves at him back in the day would pay off. I'm gonna b a divorcees rebound. Score!
We were licking ciroc off the poker table
We started off talking about nice cuddling and you turned it into fucking with a Santa hat on...
I'm going to start charging you rent if you keep leaving your random conquests on my living room couch the morning after
We had sex in the church bell tower and somehow it still feels right.
When I woke up I had 6 missed calls making sure I was ok and asking if I remember showing my tits to a picture of her baby.
look, my penis is an amusement park, and it's closed for maintenance. why can't you just accept that?
the bastard is cheating on me with some sleazy barista from Starbucks
That’s his wife they’re back together
You say potato, I say sleazy barista
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