I'm half single.
Please tell me it's the bottom half.
so the situation is a+b=c where "a" is how much you weight, "b" is my gravitational pull, and "c" is how erect your penis is.
I can now tell my grandchildren Central Park has really great spots for quickies...
But life is now good. Well, not good, good would be not wearing the penis hat with the extended family of the boy I just cheated on, but as good as it's going to get today
I'm so eating pot-chocolate cookies while preggers. This kid will be so amazing.
So the night ended when we tried making fireworks out of gunpowder and oregano. You can figure out how that went.
So the first 4 hours of my morning was equivalent to seeing under water. Things were starting to get better until I remember I drank mustard for free stuff and flossed my teeth with a strand of hair from a stranger in the bathroom.
The pastor just stopped the sermon to lay hands on me. THAT hungover.
By 11 pm the pants were off and there was no turning back. But on the bright side, you promised me your CDs when you died, you even signed a napkin saying so.
I damn near set my vagina on fire. WHILE The Flaming Lips played in the background. Intensely apropos.
You have no idea the kind of bodily contortions I had to do to access your neighbor's WIFI
Why does everyone always assume I'm fucking their boyfriends?
You are fucking her boyfriend.
It's hard to talk dirty with a mouth full of peanut butter
Im so fucked up I'm drinking baileys and coffee just to stay awake.
It's 6 in the afternoon?
Fuck you bitch. You're married. You got a live-in dick at home for your needs. I still gotta surf this shitty town's bars for cock
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