There were 3 chicks in my bed I didn't know when I got home. Now I know all of them. Biblically.
The worst part is I think my tongue cut his penis and now he wont talk to me.
The worst part of it is that he's not the first man I've fucked with 2+ chihuahua's.
Coming home soaking wet at three am and trying to convince the front desk man that we came from the library might have worked if I wasn't also roaring at everything.
If I squint, he looks like Jude Law. But that's kind of a weird face to make during sex.
He's taking me to Burger King to celebrate losing my virginity..
He turned me down because he was still doing his taxes.
There was an ice luge. Lets just leave it at that.
Yes but that point is quickly negated bc u should never have to search more than one room to find your underwear.
There are several different types of life sentences in my purse right now.
My dating life has become some fucked up hydra of dicks; you cut one off and two pop up in its place.
I played "in the air tonight" on a drum set made of titties, and I'm not even exaggerating
I didn't know how to commemorate his death, so I snorted a fat line off of his obituary. Rest in peace.
Every time Brady gets sacked I cum a little...
I opened the bathroom door and the starting point gaurd was eating out my art history professor
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