I had a dream last night that I had to pretend I liked Dave Matthews Band to impress this girl I was talking to.
I guess it was more of a nightmare.
My niece just threw up all over me. My sister's breastmilk was on my face. This is like a fucked-up porno gone terribly wrong.
this bucketlist has just become an excuse for me to be slutty, and i'm not even ashamed
I don't care. I'm going to fuck John's friend and it's all your fault.
Whoever said that remembering a girls name is a basic rule for getting laid has never met me.
It's pathetic. My bed hasn't been this sexless since it was in bedmart.
I will rip it off your body in ways are socially offensive but you still kind of like.
there are no losers in shot checkers. only winners.
I seriously doubt this is the first time pumpkin pie has led to a booty call.
The only thing about him that I appreciated was that he destroyed the bathroom at your birthday and missed singing to you. And we all knew.
I also tried to hide a bottle of vodka in a build a bear last night so that something that happened in my life
My boobs smell like weed again. This happens way too often.
Seriously my new passion in life is the girth of his penis
Ignore him I am the one that wears the pants in the relationship while "the big man" cries in bed
No I'm not high but I did cry for over an hour tonight because I realized that they never made a sequel to "Under the Tuscan Sun" with Diane Lane.
Randomize
