my little sister told my dad she found willy wonka's golden ticket in the backseat of my car. now my dad knows my boyfriend uses magnums.
Don't worry we found her. Somehow she ended up on my roof with 2 bar stools
I'm tangled in a fishing net down at the harbor. This has nothing to do with Captain Morgan. Bring wirecutters.
...oh my god that's like anal suicide
I'm aware. I'm writing the eulogy for my colon as we speak.
By the way when you were super fucked up last night, you ate cat food and tried to tell me it was healthy for you
IF I CAN STICK YOUR DICK IN MY MOUTH, I CAN STICK MY GUM ON YOUR NIGHTSTAND.
We need to go back to the barter system so I can sell my body and just be done with it.
I think they make you graduate because you get too old to go hard and become a risk. homecoming weekend wins again. fuck.
Also, in the middle of me riding him, he said "I want you to dance on my dick" like I was supposed to know what that means
I feel like I spent all day wearing underpants made entirely of poison ivy and sandpaper
Whatever you have to do, STALL THEM. Your toothbrush is in the kitchen, my pants are on the balcony, and I don't have eyebrows.
I just had sex on my divorce papers. I've never felt so poetic.
She was calling him Bob Saget and asking him to buy her shots....how do you think the night went?
And then she grabbed my dick and started singing 'ring ring ring ring banana phone'
I didn't really break out of the friend zone, as much as I blasted the doors off with high explosives and rode through on a grizzly bear...
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