i scrubbed and i scrubbed and i scrubbed and i still was a whore
I wouldn't necessarily call it an addiction, more of a passion. I'm habitually passionate.
he was wearing ninja turtle pajamas and he STILL got laid. who the fuck is this guy?!
I have pictures of you taking tequila shots off the front of the police car when the cop wasn't looking.
I threw up in the shower, slipped, and fell in it. Should I try and continue my day or just get back in bed?
Between my vag yelling at me for having bad sex and my legs yelling at me for going to the gym I cant hear myself think.
Dude, I just had the best sex of my life in a porta potty at the NCAA girls lax championships but didn't get her name or number. But I have her sunglasses. How is this possible, I'm sad.
I love your life.
Please. That's just a patriotism boner. I watched Michael phelps win another medal and had to change my underwear.
I fucking love my neighbors. I offered him chocolate and somehow it turned into a sexual proposition.
sorry to break it to you, but he's definitely fucking that other girl now...
I wish I still at least had the bruises on my ass to remember him by.
i know i shouldn't tell you this since i want you to really like me but i just spent the last 4 hours sleeping on the toilet.
My night can be summed up in 3 words: Vodka. Threesomes. Hospital.
Judging by the ckaw marks on my back i'm gonna go out on a limb and say that blonde chick was a werewolf. A sexy, kinky werewolf.
She just left someone a voicemail saying 'you better not have plans Saturday night, cause I'm going to sit on your face.'
You’ll lick BBQ off my cock but no ketchup on a hotdog?
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