I've decided to bang my pen-pal.
I don't want to talk about it. He was like the Little Engine that couldn't get me off.
I'm at the point in my career when i know a sites a trap and isn't real porn
I hope he's okay, but I also hope he shows up with an eyepatch
I am solely responsible for the birth of their child. I mean, I did push them into the room and hold the door shut yelling "punch that kitty!". It has to be a sign.
The usual. Woke up on a dog bed with peeps and $11.
His apology was sex and a subway sandwich. Strangely, I'm okay with that.
On an unrelated note, i found out who duct taped shoelaces to my face
he made a bon jovi sex playlist and started crying when "i'll be there" came on... how was your night?
She yelled "taste the gay rainbow" in a biker bar. She's either brave or fuckin stupid.
I found an inside smoking lounge. I'll be here for the next 4 hours. A nice old Canadian lady has befriended me and let me use her lighter. Fuck Hartsfield-Jackson AND this layover. I win.
I have vodka and explosives. For once, we can blow something up that isn't a blow-up doll.
Also this time, I didn't have a random creepy guy come up from behind me, grab my junk, and whisper "where's the cocaine?" in my ear. So that's also a win.
I mean, you have to swipe right on someone you had sex with last week though, right?
He has no idea he’s my boyfriend.
Randomize
