I don't know what you're doing, but there's a dragon on my street.
You just got cockblocked by Conan O'Brien.
I just got a whiff of tequila through the air conditioner.
I officially lit my glove on fire while lighting the bong. Winter needs to end.
Periouds do not concern me. Biploogival needs are buological needs.
I can't decide if the sex was so good I couldn't move, or if it was me being loaded on all the morphine that they shot me up with at the ER.
I'm not drinking anymore...and by that, I mean until St. Patrick's Day.
Obviously he considers you not fucking him as fucking up. Thus making him fuck up. Based on this I believe he should be disqualified from the race to your vagina.
After we drank 3, we built a raft out of the empties and installed the fourth submerged In the water to keep it cool. Keg boats are now a thing
I believe in weed hangovers. To say the least.
I just found out that there's a bar that has happy hour at 12 pm. It's like the universe doesn't want me to be sober
he showed me his third nipple on the first date. I might have low to no standards, but my god.
Ugh I feel like I just got hit by a big giant sex bus.
He managed to rip my nipple last night....
You started singing Baby Shark, screamed you have no idea how it goes, then somehow turned the beat into Bohemian Rhapsody
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