We can make salsa ya know, maybe even some hot sauce. That doesn't mean we're married.
she was drooling, sharted in her sleep, rolled over stuck her hand under the covers pulled it back out, smelled it and moaned and rolled back over. i almost added puke to the disgusting bodily fluid category.
She eyed me up from across the bar and mouthed "I have no gag reflex".
You know who really doesn't like surpise in-your-face air guitar solos? Strangers.
I miss the "How many Grindr hits can I get while performing in an elementary school?" game.
I may have to marry her. She is smarter than me and has a six figure job and doesn't want to have kids. All I have to be is a trophy husband.
There's s woman at the corner of the bar dancing by herself in her seat and making eye contact with me. Please hurry.
You asked me if I was judging you for being drunk, and if I can hypnotize you make sober.
Nothing like the soothing screaming of your neighbor getting boned while eating a pizza on the front porch.
Yeah, but I think it would be a little awkward to explain to Mom that the girl I brought for lunch is not my girlfriend but just a fuck buddy who I met after she hit and totaled my car last month.
You used his ass cheeks to demonstrate how to play the bongos and he still called you the next day. That's true love.
My mom added me on Snapchat which means I am officially done with Snapchat.
Dreamt I had my own personal vibrator rep, who made house calls. I earned an upgrade to an electric model, since I was burning through batteries. That's it. Time for a bf.
No actually you're a pro. You puked on the cab ride, and managed to completely contain it in your purse. the cabbie was even impressed.
Nothing ruins your day more than waking up to you dogs crotch in your face
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