So I feel really bad about last night...can i give you a blow job and we call it even?
we were spooning and you were the big spoon but you insisted that I call you "the ladle"
I'm eating lunch next to a table of beautiful culturally-diverse women chattering away happily. It's like sitting next to a Yaz commercial.
Before we started fucking, he laid me on the bed, and asked my what my sleep number was, so that i would be "comfy"
Beer bonged 7 shots of Jameson. I title this night short stories with tragic endings.
Just because you put plan b in my Easter basket doesn't give you an excuse not to wear a condom.
Apparently I told the girl smoking was terrible for her, and then requested it in my mouth.
I am way too attached to fictional lesbians.
I can't come tonight. Someone took a shit in the dressing room. A.) Clean it up or B.) Kill myself. Text back with your answer.
By the way. I expect to test the theory of you running a mile drunk for memorial day.
My black heart of coal cannot compete with your boiling crock pot of teddy bears, rainbows, 90s music, and the good candy you get from rich people on Halloween.
look for me at the Giants game I will possibly be the drunk girl passed out by 2nd
I woke up with my shoes still on and my pants around my ankles cause I couldn't get them over my shoes
We both fell asleep mid-handjob and he continued to call it "handjob halftime".
I just saw a raccoon get launched out of a tree by another raccoon. They have turf wars...
Randomize
