I'm sooo using this pickup line: "Baby, its not the 2.5 inches... Its the 200 pounds behind it"
I feel like death. And death is wearing a fleece blanket as a dress. And is seriously contemplating wearing this to go get something to eat.
We aren't going to mix hockey and sex texts tonight.
I totally agree. all sexting is on hold till after the games over.
Playoffs. This shit is serious.
My hispanic family watching the world cup is getting too intense for me. a lit candle was just thrown at me because i walked by the tv.
I miss waking up, opening the closet downstairs, and finding you inside passed out.
What can I say, your life is charmed. I'm on the couch trying to decide whether or not to puke again.
I am still sore from last night. I can't wait for you to meet my parents.
The sex was so bad. I kept sending people snapchats of my face during it.
When he wakes up tomorrow with half shaved legs smelling like a preteens bathroom, I'm sure he will think he has had a great evening
We have a little not a lot. We already rolled a blunt and named him Ron.
She asked for references to decide whether she wanted to have sex with me. And she was serious.
I stared at him for a solid five minutes because he looked like what I imagine god would look like if god was a lumberjack
I woke up and my pants were in the kitchen but my shoes were next to my bed. Do the math...
YAS. BRING CRAB.
Apparently the cops had to handcuff me in order to get me to come with to the hospital with them. They asked me if I had had any experience with handcuffs before and I replied, "Only in bed." What a life
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