And I just threw up at the table during Mother's Day Brunch.
Go for the frenulum. Its like eating a popsicle. They go nuts with that shit.
A very small part of me wants you to appreciate me for more than just my breasts. But the rest of me is breasts.
I'm buying you potatoes, the least you could do is not ask any fucking questions and just say thank you.
I'm really sorry I gave you road head last night and made you drive over and break the sprinkler system.
I'm sorry you couldn't sneak away today. You're the only guy I'm fucking that I can talk with about the other guys I'm fucking, and I need some advice
I got written up at work for smelling like sex and vodka. Still not sure how they put that into professional terms.
Seriously I'm dying. All my insides are fighting their way out of me. With light sabers and machetes.
This dudes playing guitar and singing outside our window and he's like "ravioli is beterrrrrrr than tortelliniIii cause tortelliniiii is shaped like fucking ears"
10/10 would definitely still fuck you dressed as squirrel
just once i'd like to actually BE there for your crazy drunk stories instead of just getting the play-by-play by people who can't remember half of it
In other news, I just threw up my burrito and am currently on all fours literally crawling back to my bed
We broke into a construction site had sex on a scissor lift and realized it was a church...tomorrow again??
You better have a raging boner when I get to your house and it better be worth missing work in the morning.
He's a waste of a perfectly good penis.
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