I look like a poor person in the cast of Gay Oliver.
ok this is the part where i go up stairs and pass out incoherently untill 6 30 tommaorw morning and not rember any of this. love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!
my Econ professor just passed around his phone for us to take a pic of ourselves so he could learn our names. I am currently looking him up on my sex offenders app.
I just found glitter on my vibrator... whatever we're doing has to stop
I woke up wearing nothing but 7 partially eaten candy necklaces. Only one was around my neck. Don't even try to tell me I don't need plan B.
We just filmed our own version of iron chef. The secret ingreient was whisky.
What did you cook with whisky?
We started a fire.
Would you be offended if I asked you to smoke a blunt with me while I pooped?
It's gotten to the point that the dirty talk in my head when I touch myself has your accent
to improve your porn experience, just imagine a slow speaking older English man narrating it all like a Nature documentary
When you're awkward as a teenager, it never goes away. You just mask it. With makeup. And boobs.
My therapist keeps stopping to ask what 'hooking up' means
ITS ORAL SEX CAROL
I thought adderall would sober me up, but it did NOT.
I have just found the cubicle of sustenance. And I will rejoice at all the families that have not found this magic. This vodka cubicle of magic.
Good to know. If our sexting moves past early 1900s vernacular, I'll be sure to use that once or twice.
that may or may not have been my penis.
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