I hate it when I go to hug someone sexy and hit my head on the mirror.

I don’t know what i’m going to be for Halloween, so I’m probably just going to put in a tampon and go as a sexy kite.

Everybody’s back hurts until it’s time to have sexy time.

Nothing says sexy like a pair of sensible, silky polka dot PJs.

Woke up and immediately broke my resolution to be less sexy this year.

Forget sexy talk. I want breakfast talk. Describe those waffles to me nice and slow.

You can’t spell dyslexia without sexy.

Getting older is sexy. You moan more.

On the one hand, I’d love to look sexy in a bikini. On the other hand, there’s cake.

Anytime I switch deodorants, it’s like a sexy stranger is following me around all day.

If you find my upper lip mole sexy, wait till you see the dark spot on my MRI.

I composed this post in a way that only the sexy can read it, so congratulations.

I asked my doctor if I’m healthy enough for sex and he told me I’m not even sexy enough for health.

Seriously, how sexy was Freud’s mom?

Maybe women decided to convince men that beards were sexy because they were sick of cleaning the washbasin after he shaved.

If I had known I looked this sexy in glasses, I would’ve stopped being able to see a long time ago.

Only thing sexier than a bad decisions is a bad decision with queso.