He moved away. I mourned his dick all of Sunday. I feel a little better now.
Sorry for calling you a whore in front of your mom. World cup brings the worst out of me.
he's washing the lighter in the sink and telling me to picture unicorns. requesting backup.
dude. i just ate tomato soup with a funnel. we're out of spoon-straws.
Me and your penis are best friends. You don't know it, but I whisper my secrets whenever I give you blowjobs. We even have a secret handshake. We can't be separated from each other. We just can't.
You're making her cookies in enchange for knitting lessons. You will die a virgin.
She makes walking on a treadmill look like a porno. I wish I could send over shots as an ice breaker.
That's effing brilliant. We should start a business.
I think your dick broke my retainer, I normally wouldnt care but my orthodontist died and I don't want my first appt to be blow job broken retainer with a new ortho.
It's like your tits told gravity 'fuck you, I'm fine right here!'
I had an epiphany. If a dude dressed up as Batman to ask me out, I'd prolly marry him.
I don't know which is worse, the fact that his name is Kevin or the fact that he has a pornstache.
I think you're my feminist conscience sometimes.
We're sort of like brothers. Except with more sexual tension. And we don't look alike. Or are related.
So we're not much like brothers really.
all I know is that I was naked, and there were cheeto puffs everywhere...
My vagina knows your penis is sad about Andrew Luck. You should come over and let her comfort him in his time of need
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