I've done unspeakable things to your penis. I have every right to give it a name.
No way. Every time you have sex with him you'll end up staring into those eagle eyes and stop mid-orgasm.
It's that time of the week again where I begin to ponder life's great questions like, "What will my pathetic excuse for a future look like?" and "Why tacos?"
cassie wtf are you alive??! no one has seen you for like seven hours whereeee did you go
IS IT POSSIBLE FOR A GUY TO NOT HAVE BALLS
I just remembered something. Did we really all flash the cab driver to get half off?
Don't blame me. I told you I didn't know if I had a key to those hancuffs.
Did u smell a guys dreadlocks in the McDonald's drive thru line last night or did I dream that?
When she asked why I felt bad I said that it may have had something to do with the gin and cold pizza I had for breakfast.... And then I reflected on what my life has become.
For once I am not in the mood. My vagina is good with life at the moment.
The apocalypse has arrived.
I bruised my dick hopping over that fence last night
My booty call fought through ice and a foot of snow to get here. He brought booze, food, and cigarettes for three days. My vagina is the greatest motivator of all time.
Actually here it's more "lie around naked in a dark room" weather.
Ok thats great. so just to recap: you fucked a billionare in his penthouse last night, and I had a glass of wine on the toilet.
I think my pickup truck has been used for the sex... This doesn't sit right with me.
You made me take you back to Mcdonalds so you could yell at the guy for not giving you enough ketchup packets
I vaguely recall french fries...
You then proceeded to call your mom and tell her you weren't coming home because you were "tripping balls"
Sweet...
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