but she was nice to me.
She was a fuckin STRIPPER.
I was so high last night. I wrote a poem about my salt shaker
i gave him a hand job with one hand and held the 40 with the other. this is like freshman year all over again.
Only I can have a panic attack in the back seat of a cop car and have them move me to the front seat.
It was the classiest, most strategic and inspired vomiting I've ever witnessed. Like a blind mans first sunrise. A priests first prayer. Or a virgins first orgasm.
I honestly can't remember your justification for putting peanut butter on your cell phone.
we're like Indians of the 21st century. trading not for food and survival but personal gain and by trouble you mean getting daytime drunk and going to the roller ring then yes.
I'll be listening to "I will always love you" and sobbing uncontrollably all night, care to join?
I'm eating those little wheels of cheese and watching storage wars, this is the opposite of sex.
I'm not sure I can continue to condone our having sex in all of your friends' beds
You knew you'd end up at his house the minute you emptied the bowl of condoms into your purse.
She's lucky her pussy is worth listening to her ramble about bedroom furniture for 30 minutes
FUCK. EVERYONE MAKE MY CONTACT NAME DADDY ISSUES
Apparently I've texted the word shitfucked so much it auto-completes it now.
can jess come too?
sure! but I don't have enough booze for the both of you.
she comes with her own booze, no worries.
Randomize
