I wonder sometimes what your vagina thinks about you.
You're asking the wrong person. I was drunk on nyquil and jager.
I mean we had sex in a crib. You tell me how my night was.
You left for an hour, then walked up to us at the bar, pulled 80 dollars out of your bra and yelled " drinks are on him".
Last time I sleep with a guy with a penchant to fragrance his dick. Every time I sit to pee, I get a whiff of Axe body spray.
What was the name of that place where we saw that concert? It was like a warehouse and some guy was living in the loft above the stage...
It's called: a legit place to drop acid.
Seriously, I am going to crawl in a hole, sew my vagina shut, and spit acid on any man that comes near me.
She just shoved like three McNuggets in her mouth and started sobbing and I have no idea what's going on.
Passed out drunk in a tanning bed...
Did At The Beach call the fire department to get you like last time?
Whatever. I hate you. My vagina hates you. I hope a bird shits on your head today.
Hatred of squirrels is the least of my hereditary problems.
Nothing tops off the night like giving emotional and spiritual guidance to a 70 year old transvestite.
I am rewearing my dress from last night. I only wore it for like two hours before fucking. And I took it off first so no cock contact. This is my new standard of cleanliness.
Now, I know I say this a lot, but you've obviously never seen my penis.
He had a small dick and screamed "I will kill you if you don't get hard" to it in German...awkward time to have to explain I speak German too...
This is why you need to stop sleeping with freshmen.
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