Text. Mid BJ. 8 points.
I just got asked by a man in the alley if i would like to buy 50 dollars of meat for 20 bucks. Its been a weird day.
Brutally Honest is my real middle name, Princess just sounds better.
Most the numbers in my phone are mistakes. It's a virtual graveyard of people I should never pick up for.
Nothing quite says America like barbecue and beer at 9 in the morning.
I'm more concerned about the fact that I can't feel my gums
2 things. 1. I just gave her a 6 hour long marathon fucking for America. 2. Thought of a new invention halfway through, and it's flawless.
People are talking politics and I have had 9 mimosas
Status: mom bitching about grandma not shutting the fuck up, while not shutting the fuck up. Dear Jesus give me strength or more bourbon.
I got titty fucked last night and you're breastfeeding your newborn. Clearly we have gone two totally different paths since 2011.
Welp. June's off to a great start. I just ripped my pants, completely sober, at 10:30 p.m.
Why do all my exes just become Tom Hanks in Castaway?
That's a fantastic question. And an odd set of criteria to meet if wanting to date you.
Typical. We're ready to go, and you're not wearing pants.
Straight boys are literally imbeciles. If Darwinism doesn’t get them female rage will.
Her hand jobs are magic. They smell like vanilla and awesomeness. She made me forget how to walk
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