I was on my way at Dorito Smoothie
Bruises. Everywhere. Table sex is dangerous
At this point, I really just need a sign in sheet for my vagina.
I was crying hysterically and you wouldn't stop petting my ear and shushing me every time I tried to say something.
He puked, did more shots, and then pissed in a drawer. We thought it was bad enough and all of a sudden...boom-clothes come off and he passes out with slippers and a styrofoam hat on and a guitar hero guitar in hand pretending he was slash.
also since I use google voice my ads in gmail switched to DUI services after this conversation
Did you find any other hidden treasures in my room? Specifically weed? Or Slim Jims?
The goal for tonight is vagina. In and around. Doesn't matter who. How. Or why.
she comes in perfect pitch. hook up with more singers.
The sad part is that if I don't get a random pic of your balls or ass or both every month, I start to worry that we're not friends anymore
Thank you for caring about my cervix.
If my bootycall doesn't bring over a Baconnator, I swear to fucking God, I'm not letting him in. The hunger is that real. Forget his Persian dick.
I just got promised sex at a fire station tonight so basically all my porn star dreams are coming true.
Donated a pint of blood at 6 and pub crawl started at 7. Thank your lucky stars I'm still alive today.
After we fucked we sat in bed and watched Charlie St. Cloud and he fed me ice cream. It was probably the most romantic thing I've ever done.
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