Doo rag and shades in the bar. You are missing your future husband.
I don't hate you. My dick is upset with you, but I don't hate you.
My therapist told me it was ok for me to "take risks" now. Cue the hookers and blow.
You were chewing up hot dogs and spitting them out
Keep in mind that he's 43, unemployed and living with his parents. There's really not much we could do to make his life worse.
We carried on a casual conversation about plants while I gave him a hand job.
TAing a class of 300 froshies and being so hungover I forgot a bra is my way of making dreams come true.
So we reenacted men's olympic skeet shooting using roman candles and flattened beer cans. That's all
Well I woke up and my arm was bleeding. And my blood is on the wall in the hallway.
Umm
No idea. I blame fireball.
Valid.
My husband has seen you naked more times this week than me. I don't consider it a bad thing since you keep bringing the booze to our house. And because my tits are bigger.
Opened my notebook to coke all over the pages. So, if that's any indication on how this weekend went.
BTW, Julia referred to you as a power bottom. Are you available?
Never ever make a tattoo bet. I now have a shamrock on my dick.
Also, asking the guy who just told you he is crippled on edibles to watch your kid is probably frowned upon by most
My life is far to together for someone who's such a hot mess inside
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