Your mouth is God's brothel.
i just wanna skin you and wear you like last years versace.
you may have the big hair, fake nails, and talk with a fake accent, but you will NEVER be a housewife from new jersey so STOP TRYING.
I think throwing up in my her purse is probably why we broke up
I'm not wearing underwear, I started my period this morning, and it's super windy. Recipe for disaster?
Exactly. Because my vagina can't be consoled with words. It requires a thicker form of communication
I'm wearing red that night.
Noted, what shade?
Whore.
All I wanted was a hug. You dirty, dirty whore.
I messaged him asking for his address. He replied with the address then said, "If you're gonna stalk me, I'm the third window on the side and usually get naked around 8am and anytime randomly after 6pm (listen for music).. If you're sending anthrax, I'm 6'2" 225lbs so send a good amount."
We tried the hang n bang, remember? You ruined it by crying and telling me you loved me while blowing me.
QUIT RUINING DICK PICTURE DAY
I want to tell everyone I've ever met about how he him picking me up and fucking me against the wall was the highlight of my life. Worst lesbian ever.
that is terrible, if I can't drink Gatorade when I'm hungover I don't wanna live in this world. that's like denying wild rams to run free in the wild and frolic
My vagina needs her own mother sometimes.
He was so high he started playing Twister on the striped rug. Then when we missed midnight he went on a screaming rampage about his New Year's Eve being meaningless. How do you think it went?
I stopped him mid keg stand to show him how cute my bra was...
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