we sat in the hammock and pretended we were skydiving for three hours. jack actually started crying when i convinced him his chute didnt open.
i havent had this much fun since the last time i farted and it created a boner.
I had my own version of the Hangover last night. I woke up to a disassembled Christmas tree, shit on the futon, and a hamster in the bathroom with a necklace on that said "Feed Me Bitch." I don't own a hamster. I don't know what I drank last night, but I want to do it again.
Foreign porn with subtitles is a little disappointing.
He literally didn't stop until I lost count of how many times he made me orgasm. It took three hours.
the outcome of this sandwich determines whether or not i do anything else with my day..
My bruised ribs were so worth that win in beer pong
Brought him brownies before taking his pants off. I'm like the Martha fucking Stewart of booty calls. Walk of shame be damned.
I never thought that it would get to the point where I would have to specify that by "hang out" I meant "fuck like rabbits." Growing up shouldn't be this way.
I want a calm night. Not one where I wake up to you topless and bloody.
A "Tom-vomit" is when you puke but cough as it comes up, so you close you mouth as a natural reaction and the vomit is jet-propelled out your noise.
I'd like to be surprised that there's a picture of someone pouring champagne in my boobs on Instagram, but I can't.
You need to stop me from lighting my hand on fire next time we're working
You can get gift cards to the liquor store! This changes everything.
This morning when you were fucking me you said you'd go to the store and get me tampons and a 30 pack
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