So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
marching band practice is quite the interesting soundtrack to sex
You act like I'm friends with her or something. I only screw her boyfriend!
Oh yeah.
It's official. I'm a squirter. Wasn't a one time thing.
all she kept saying was "harder" "mayo" and "who are you"
He asked me why my bellybutton was so ugly... and wondered why i wasnt in the mood anymore.
What's life without a lamp shade you wore home?
I have no words
Neither did my mom, when she walked in on me squating with my balls in a cup of hot water.
They said I was more of a mess than the German. I have achieved the unachievable, you may bow down to me
I think I've just evolved into some kind of vodka fueled monster
Maybe is for pussies. We only say yes in this household
And regarding bottomless mimosas stopping at 1 pm, there was a chick who drove her car into the back of the bar. Blame that bitch, not you peeing in the koi pond.
Then a third Canadian I didn't know showed up to the hotel room at like 3am. I let him sleep in our bed because he had pizza.
Well we can add this to the list of 'where the hell did that bruise come from?'
I stared at his dick and then told him to get on his knees
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