So at this point...I'm sure you heard the story about Saturday night
I think Charlie st. Cloud is the saddest thing I can masturbate to.
I have my ice chest next to my bed. Instead of breakfast in bed, its beers in bed. 10x better
There are 18k people at the game and I'm next to the one guy who pulls his underwear down to his ankles to piss.
She told me I made the cut, and to write my name and number on the white board by the door. I was the 7th number down.
He drunk dialed me at 2am asking if he could put a baby in me.
This breakup hit defcon 5. Walked to pathmark with a denim jacket over my nightgown to get ben and jerrys. On sale btw.
Buying her a drink is like giving a seagull a French fry, all you're gonna do is get annoyed and shit on
I should rephrase... I'm trying to not sit on other peoples faces besides my boyfriends.
So everything was good he was big spoon I was little spoon and then I got peed on
then he told me my boobs feel like "if you put mushroom soup in a baggie." I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about this.
That cat I follow on Facebook beat cancer so we're drinking tonight in celebration
Make a note to pack something that won't catch shell casings in your cleavage
I think I just received the most dignified proposition of my life. From the father of the bride. Who'd have thought.
Can you recommend a quality dick? I haven’t had a good sexing in a while
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