I had a dream last night that Anthony Bourdain gave me a vibrator.
mid puke you looked up at me and asked if it was your turn to sing
Apple Jack is not a good idea for breakfast. Whiskey can't replace milk.
The difference between you and me last night was that I didn't remember getting into the cab and you didnt know we were in one.
I barely even remember him. He is just a distant beard in my past.
My blowjobs put them in a state of relaxation similar to that of getting hit with a tranquilizer. The fear comes after the sex.
I mean, yeah, she was cheating on me but I've been fucking her brother. My secret relationship trumps her secret relationship.
I'm sorry for not being sorry about whatever shit I did to you when you were annoying and I was drunk. That is all.
I just used my AAA membership to fix a strippers flat tire in return for a lapdance...does that make me a bad person?
Apparently at 2 AM I decided to let the world know about my newfound love for elephants
Not a problem, sailor. I speak both autocorrect and typo.
He had the same tone in his voice and look in his eyes that he gets when he says UFOs aren't real.
I just matched with a taco on tinder. Dreams come true.
its like my accent is a device for a 100% chance of sex every time i leave the apartment. i love being english in this country.
Ahhh, the bane of our relationship.... His mediocre penis
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