Come to the Burger King. We're waiting for you.
The Mets? Come back? That'd be like Nickelback writing a good song.
She thought I was gay, so I told her I'd be more comfortable with anal. She agreed.
He told me that he wishes our relationship was more like prison: less touching, more butt sex.
Well the party says they're going to have three kegs and four trampolines. I think I'm going to invite my EMT buddies just to be safe.
He asked if I was on the pill, apparently I just downed my glass of beer and winked at him...
I know it was you that I fucked last night... I can smell my disappointment all over the sheets
Couldn't get it up. She asked me what she was doing wrong. Didn't have the heart to tell her. I appreciated her willingness to adapt, but she's pretty much gonna look that bad her whole life.
She gives the worst handjobs, it was like raw meat on a cheese grater
The internet is out at West Chester so I'm masturbating using my imagination. What is this, the fucking dark ages?
I was so ripped I had a natty light box over my head carrying a spray bottle out in the streets trying to give car washes.
I'll bring your "congrats on finally banging" cookies tomorrow, I'm exhausted.
Casually blacked out last night and apparently told him he couldn't come back to bed until he got me Taco Bell.
I woke up under the stretchy sheet like the corners were still stuck under the bed. I had to wiggle the corners off in order to get up. I was trapped. how did that happen
there are LEGIT cum stains on my ceilling. ON THE CEILLING!! you tell me how the relationship was.
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