As it turns out, Caitlin did not want to see his dick, and I did not go out.
Note: I DID NOT CHEAT. He (or she, who knows) was just a sore loser, and can still suck my balls.
It has a very good health insurance plan.
His face is bizarre, sloping, and unsightly… but I can’t stop looking.
Apparently he has a ghost writer in his employ.
It’s disconcerting that this is taking place on such a pretty blanket.
Also that it’s happening from a semi-concealed camera across the room.
He’s referring to Caitlin, BTDubs.
I told him I was a homosexual. Then he drew me a picture.
Gotta admit, this looks really good.
This guy was pretty insistent that I was depressed, which was not the case. In fact, he would pretty much insist that everything he said was correct, and I was just denying it for no reason.