You woke up in the middle of the night and told me we won the sweepstakes, the penis sweepstakes.
She eyed me up from across the bar and mouthed "I have no gag reflex".
I keep waking up with the nagging feeling I gave him half a hand job through his shorts.
I prob couldn't even get his attention if I had a dick growing out of my forehead
running the faucet water is not hiding the sound of you vomiting. fyi.
They were taking shots out of the caps of perfume bottles. This is too much for me.
Apparently I'm ahead in the foot race to his dick because I'm not insane. If I'd have known that's all it took, I'd have worn sweat pants more often.
I still have beer shits from last weekend. Dying from dysentary is a real threat at this point.
Because making bad decisions is what makes our house great and I don't plan on changing that anytime soon.
I mean, he's 40, foreign, artsy but with substance abuse problems and estranged children. How is he not my type?
You kept ripping all your clothes off and saying, "Let me be free!"
It's situations like these that make me climb out of windows
He keeps singing a song about someone called the dayman.
....fighter of the Nightman?
in mid sex he pointed out my great gatsby tattoo and we started discussing themes and metaphors from our fave fitzgerald novels
you need to stop fucking English majors
Its like a glacier coming out of my asshole.
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