She just asked to stimulate my prostate, man law requires you come pick me up
I am growing concerned with the number of people here in cowboy hats
it's sunday funday. and also, who can outslut the other day.
The waitress bought us a round. She said if anyone could do 52 margarita mondays in a row, it was us.
we already have meals planned for the weekend.
SEMEN IS NOT A MEAL.
IDK but this explains my bloody dashboard.
Standards? I'm sitting on his couch eating microwaved ramen wearing his wife's t-shirt. I don't remember what having standards even feels like.
Like there's an 87% chance I'll end up on the bedroom floor demanding sex while freestyling in your face. I'm going to buy rum.
I know. It's cray. Crayon. Crayolaaaaa.
But he has cupcakes AND I'm guaranteed an orgasm. .. I feel like I shouldn't even have to actually make a decision here.
At first it will make you think "how is this physically possible?" and then it will ruin an entire food group for you.
He was licking my ear while recommending that I shop at IKEA. I think he's my perfect guy.
His dog ate the vibrator. The WHOLE vibrator. We spend the morning after trying to make it vomit up the battery. Why does this always happen to me?
Well he waved at me as he was leaving so he def noticed the staring, and by staring i mean blatant eye fucking from across the bar..
Our conversation went from you choking me to my quarter life crisis reeeaaalllll quick.
Randomize
