By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
I have decided to cut my hair. This is based solely on the fact there is too much of it to clean vomit out every Sunday afternoon.
just fucked my old babysitter, gotta love block parties
Were betting on little kids falling and racing for a drinking game at the wedding.
I should also mention that having been a sheltered child, I am conditioned to have serious kinks and find upper bodies of either sex attractive. And legs.
You challenged yourself to walk backwards all the way to the bar... And you did
Bad idea to be in a car concussed. I just described his dick as an elevator. I think i meant escalator, i dont know
ahhhh just came to creep and you're not there AND your thong you were wearing last night is on the floor..someone has some explaining to do
The weed is temporarily burning the grammar section of my brain library.
I was in a penguin suit. Dick out. I am confident in the value of my pic.
He also told me he would eat mozzarella sticks before having sex with me so I'm mad at him.
I'm not finished with being a sloppy white girl alcoholic. I didn't postpone having a husband and kids for sober weekends.
I can't believe we really went to walgreens to use their cork opener, bounced and drank a bottle of wine in a sketchy corner...
Ps. I'm slapping the bag. It's an emergency.
I'd like to know who hasn't seen my tits tonight.
Randomize
