Ha i know. My vag can't go too crazy for a boy halfway across the country. It doesn't have that good of range
the Monday before Thanksgiving is not a Monday at all. Just Thursday in Monday suit.
I only make drug deals in a British accent. It's my way of making sure it doesn't get too sketch.
i was trying to find the best way to say come over and have sex, without saying it.
Then I received a text in French, that roughly translated to "all you'll ever be good for is sex on the Internet"
judging by the cake all over the hall, my neighbors had a pretty successful thursday too.
It reminded me of the time my mother gave my Bailey's in my stocking when I was 14.
Repeat the weekend mantra. "I like boys with teeth, I need boys with teeth, I deserve boys with teeth, I will have boys with teeth".
Every time I try to stand up the back of my head feels like a bunch of little elves are beating the inside of my scalp with their toy making tools. What disease could this be?
I'm running on jager fumes right now. It's like I put diesel in a prius and said fuck it.
Cleaning naked can be dangerous. Vacuum cord got stuck on my belly button ring...
Today, I lack passion for anything but Taco Tuesday.
I have "if found please return to" written in sharpie on my arm, my uterus is rejecting everything, and I have hickies. I must actually be an 18 year old piece of shit girl instead of a responsible 23 year old
You know I base where I go on the likelihood of me getting laid there. This includes work.
I put the child locks on after I put you in the car and you then screamed, "I am a Phoenix, you can't restrain me. I NEED TO FLY!"
Randomize
