he wanted to have sex on the little rocking chair but i was too high to figure out how to do that so we did it on the floor.
You know that it's no longer pregaming if you don't go anywhere, right? That's just drinking alone.
she said she didn't want to sleep with me again because I wasnt a generous lover. I ignored her slight moustache, didnt i? i think thats pretty damn generous
DO NOT FUCK HIM ON MY BEAN BAG CHAIR
We're at that point in our relationship where sweatpants sex has become acceptable...
I gave ten strangers a full description of his penis and its abilities. I need to stop drinking.
I met her at the liquor store. I hope I'm wearing a condom
I hope in my next life I'm a sterile trophy wife. With a husband who showers me in wealth and gifts but can't get a hard on. Do you think my karma is good enough for that?
Exactly. Because my vagina can't be consoled with words. It requires a thicker form of communication
I haven't been motivated enough for a shirt. And only half the day was bra-worthy.
A particularly funny moment you may have missed; you walked in to the basement to announce that whoever was cooking sausages had left them on the grill for Hella long, only to be told that you were in fact the person grilling. At which point you just said, "the sausages are done" and walked out
DUDE I FINGERED JOE'S MOM, PLS DONT TELL HIM, MORE LATER
DO I FUCKING *LOOK* LIKE SOMEONE WHO HAS THEIR ACT TOGETHER!?!? THE ANSWER IS "NO"!
I gave him a hand job in the parking lot... now he thinks we're meant for each other...
I really wanted you to make me eggs this afternoon. I even wrote it on my hand to remind myself.
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