D3 body, D1 cock
wrigley field is MILF paradise
Call me at 7:30 and make sure I'm not asleep in this booth at Waffle House.
i don't want a singing card. it disturbs my hangover. give me a pack of cigs taped to a bottle of wine and fuck me without a condom. happy vday baby.
he is the anna nicole to my 90 year-old billionaire. i'm grateful that he's fucking me, so i'm buying him shit.
he's totally gay but hes wondering what hes missing out on. Im going to show him.
no pressure.
You were yelling in my ear let's double team her with her right next to us
this whole plan B standoff thing with her is really starting to make me nervous
I don't want to die alone with cake watching shows about cake
I am honestly trying to remember his name. All I can remember is that he had a weird mole, a daughter and a lot of cocaine. Please stop letting me pick up at gay night.
Curdled. you forgot that word. It was a curdled buttery nipple shot.
I have the overwhelming need to take care of him. Both with my vagina and like emotionally.
You're gonna be sprawled out basking in the sun working on your tan like a ridiculously hot iguana, and I'm gonna be here bundled up in about 72 layers just so I don't freeze my dick off looking like the Michelin man's gay cousin
i apologize, I may have called you an iguana
Mistakes were made
New low: uploading my contacts into Facebook in an attempt to get the name of the girl I brought home last night.
Literally been in their house 5 minutes and I've projectile vomited all over the bathroom wall. The dog licked it up though so I think it's cool.
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