apparently the secret to your success is patron
it was like his penis was on wheels.
Okay you totally passed out. Ask me about the bike parking garage and the expired baby formula in the morning.
No, he will live forever, like cockroaches and Jack Bauer.
I woke on the floor next to a big TV. Apparently I traded my bed for a 52 inch samsung and a box of pop tarts.
Moral of the story: don't get pregs or your chances in the beer league are over
These fall allergies are really hindering my cocaine habit.
it's like his penis is God's way of saying "sorry about his face"
Everything was yummy and fruit flavored and five alive and happymeas.
I have a breathe right strip stuck to my forehead, several inexplicable bruises and I think someone tried to paint my nails with glue, but I still have my Santa hat. I'm gonna call this one a success.
I cannot describe the pre-ejaculative horrors thru the medium of text messaging
No just a slight sexual miscommunication which led to a little (lot) vomiting by one party and a bruised sternum on the other party involved.
I can't even make a guess how that goes.
I only want to come over for sex and blueberry pancakes
Anyways enough about genital fatigue...
hurry up. it's a friday night and i'm drinking in my office by myself. wearing a stewie griffin costume. the cleaning lady is judging me.
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