oh, and bring over your fire extinguisher. we're gonna get the mailman again
hey, can i borrow that thing you never use?
what?
your penis
I walked downstairs and he was standing in nothing but his boxers with his dick hanging out warming up eggs in the microwave.
If I ever write a book, i'm calling it "why do i work with fucktards?"
It'll be a good sequel to my other book, "why do i sleep with fucktards?"
I am sitting here. Drinking from a bottle of vodka. Eating shredded cheese from a bag and waiting on him to pick me up after he finishes with his girlfriend. This is what dreams are made of.
We didn't talk. I watched you drop an egg on the floor. And watched you praise your haunted broom.
I'm thinking about wearing a strap-on just to freak him out the next time he pulls my pants off.
I'll pay you to write the paper but not for sex. You should only get paid for something you work hard at.
She had YOLO tattooed on her ass. Like, one cheek said YO, the other said LO. Even I can't handle that level of hot mess.
He's getting me an energy drink and said good morning beautiful. He must sense i'm cutting him off from the sex.
I'm ready to sell my soul to the strip club tonight
the dude in the apartments across the street got a video of me railing blake on your front steps last night
shit like this is why i dont let you drink vodka anymore ..
Low key that was incredibly dangerous to let me wield a sword at this point in the night
I'm to the point of desperation where I stare at customers penis imprints through their pants all day
When I woke up this morning I swear my mouth tasted like dick and rolaids.
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