We need to find a way to make penises more like hookahs.
Just promise me you won't ring in the new decade by clutching onto a toilet
it is 7:54 and i am surrounded by drunk old people. drunk enough that my grandmother and her friend just compared boobs. as in, shirts off, bras coming down. save me.
I'm ashamed of you 12 hours later and 200 miles away
I'm pretty sure we organized our beer pong teams according to who's been circumsized...
I don't care if I just threw up. You kiss me now. This is marriage.
If sitting in the car passing a flask back and forth because the bar we go to is having some power issues on Christmas eve isn't Christmas spirit, then I don't know is.
I gave him head in my cape. On the kitchen floor. Watching a show about bacon.
My saliva right now is around 7.6% alcohol/volume.
After he came, I wiped my mouth on my baby blanket. I could feel nana rolling over in her grave.
You were fine, but your knee injury definitely came from interpretive dancing like a gay fairy with lead wings all around the Mission St BART. Everyone thought you were on drugs.
You know what? The sex was so bad that I don't even care that I gave him strep.
I swear to the sweet baby jesus I didn't fill your freezer with salsa and my little pony toys, but I didn't stop them either.
In the words of my step grandma "whatever makes your pussy happy"
I just gave my boss a blowjob. underneath his desk at work. that promotion is mine!
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