How many nights a week you wake up with sticky boxers cause you were dreaming of Clay Aiken? Your wife mad?
I smell stomach acid.
i think 'regret' was last night's theme. i could taste it in my mouth and woke up next to it.
Apparently you walked through my house with your dress on your head
You screamed 'pound me, you big thick stud.' I looked around for porn cameras.
Shut up. I did not.
I really wish I was making that up.
She's holding my hand. I'm going to kill myself.
I want to spend time with you, and by time, I mean real time. Not your dick in my mouth time.
And on the seventh day, God carefully sculpted your cock to fit perfectly into my masterpiece of a vagina. Then he rested. Look it up.
I've decided I want to blow you wearing a santa hat.
Aren't rabbit ears more seasonally appropriate?
Also, as my manager i'm going to put you in charge of making sure i don't drown.
Delete that photo of me. My ass looks WAY to good it in to be on Facebook for everyone to see. You gotta earn that shit.
Drunkenly, I gave him a molly instead of an aleve so A) I'm still looking for him and B) I'm not sure about his headache.
come over. We can flirt with the criteria for substance abuse and talk about our daddy issues
I'm eating an ice cream cone and pooping. Don't know how I'm gonna wipe.
I can’t shake the image of her gigantic black unibrow. It’s like I got a blowie from Eugene Levy
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