yeah, i liked him til i heard he had a sac that could apparently smother my face.
this blows. i told the guy at the bar that i was the DD and it was like i just announced over megaphone that i had genital herpes. no one will talk to me now.
Also, the wait staff kept prematurely clearing my Manhattans. Not sure if it was an oversight or a hint.
All i know if I'm throwing uo into a bag with a smiley facE on it right now and this is not a smileuy face time right nowe
I have reached the state of intoxication where it is now a requirement to sit while peeing.
Ya I painted "STOP TRYING ANAL" on her headboard. I'm sick of listening to her whine through the wall and bitch the next day.
Consider it an appointment to improve my blow job capabilities.
Look, the fact that I didn't kick him out and rip your clothes off speaks very highly of me.
i want to have awesome sex and feel fuzzy.
They need 20 oz Capri suns with liquor. Douches need to grow up with their clients
The cleaning lady has moved my vibrator twice now so I would say I'm pretty ready to move out.
So here's a brief summary of my weekend: last night I drank four glasses of Death Punch, grabbed the toaster, said "This is mine", put it in my pants and walked out the front door.
I think he might be using me for sex. I also think I might be ok with that.
Not gonna lie: had to look up how to spell fellatio. Not sure I spelled it right even now. Looks like a Shakespearean character. ENTER FELLATIO, SOLILOQUIZING.
He gave us beer and shots and made us pizza in his brick oven before firing a handgun into the air to signal it was time to give us a ride in his inflatable raft to the bars.
He's like a mythological figure
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