I have a walk of shame I should be getting to. "Hey, by the way, what is your name?" is not a conversation I want to have today
I hope to God it wasnt poon. That odor was unnatural, it was satanic pussy.
update: the house isnt on fire anymore, but he is still pissing on all your stuff.
the house was on fire??
shit I thought I told you.
turns out a healthy dose of cleavage is the equivalent of a swig of felix felicis
he's making romantic advances towards me. and he has a pet snake. 2nd part not relevant, but interesting.
He was supposed to take me to a nice dinner, but istead all he did was get drunk and throw lit fireworks at me.
False alarm it was margarita mix all over my hands not blood
The fairy wings and cowboy hats were not the issue. The bag of cocaine that I held in the air as we drove in the parade might have been.
I'm going to make a mold of my tits to bake a cake for him for our anniversary.. I can see the pride in his eyes now.
officially christened the dorm room by sucking my spilled drink off the floor. tastes like homee
I'm at the point in my life where I'm trying to get guys I've fucked to give a ride to guys I'm going to fuck.
The fuck-me-pumps were hot, the XL hoody kinda ruined it.
he shit on the floor last night i'm not venturing down there
You're the reason why I want to be a better drunk
This is why you arnt allowed in pet stores
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