You are in charge of making sure that her vagina explodes with joy tonight.
Either you made a spaghetti vodka smoothie last night, or you puked in the blender.
After a couple hours you decided you were going to walk home but ten minutes later you called and said you'd puked by the side of the road and you needed us to drive you to the art museum.
No seriously stop! I feel bad for him. It isn't even big enough to make fun of. It's so small that it's like a disability.
You said that my dog would "complete your puzzle" then you got naked and took it behind the bar
Thats not what we're looking for. I want this kid to suck a lolly pop out of a stripper's snatch.
I've already made the "blackout on move in day" decision
I can say with 87% certainty that i received one of the world's five greatest blow jobs since the Coolidge administration on Saturday night.
I think I'm making a tradition of going to every funeral with at least one sex-related bruise. I don't know how this happened.
Well I'm about 60% wine, 30% pure rage and 10% tears at the moment and I'm disappointed in how little alcohol is in me
Don't worry, I'm sure your thrusting skills are on point.
In retrospect i can confidently say that the last two months of our relationship... i was only in it because i didnt wanna lose my list on his netflix account.
I just realized my hands still smell like your cock. Which is awesome, but I wonder if the clerk at the store appreciated it.
I feel bad. I'm the reason hand sanitizer exists.
Oral sex and brunch. The perfect sunday morning.
I texted him: “Come over for the Super Bowl. I promise lots of scoring.”
My divorce is turning into a porn script
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