I hit 10,000 texts this month.. I think my grandkids have carpal tunnel.
the cop then proceeds to point out the "proud parent of a dare graduate" bumper sticker and say well i guess it's time to take that off
i have now been nicknamed the screamer on the first, third, fourth, & six floor by all the ra's. only two more floors to go before i cover the entire dorm.
To put it in a frame of reference with which you're familiar, it was like making out with a golden retriever.
She was mid-sentence and then BOOM the hammock broke off the tree. I about pissed myself. Hot Sprite and Vodka make the world go round.
She puked her nose ring out of her face.
Listen to me plotting my whoredom.
I'be color coordinated the clothes in my closet and my underwear drawer. I'm like an advertisement for house arrest. Help.
I just hate that one day I'll have to tell our children how we met, makes me look like a gold digging whore
I fell asleep on the bus and woke up in Italian Las Vegas. Europe was a successful continent for me.
I broke out the Krispy Kreme, and am possibly having random internet sex in less than an hour. I think I got this breakup under control.
On way back. With a shopping cart. Minimal casualties.
apparently domino's not only has a live feed of pizzas coming out of the oven, but it also has a built in smooth jazz radio station. this pizza's getting really pornographic really fast.
She can't brag about all the anal sex she has and then expect me not to awkwardly stare at her boyfriend when she brings him around
Just to clarify, i'm coming over for tacos not a threesome
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