i'm not sure when i reached "slam my own hand in the door" status but my half attached fingernail is not grateful.
When you hit the 45 minute mark of any argument about The Flintstones, you have to realize: it's no longer you arguing, it's the cocaine arguing.
when i saw his roomate the next night he kept openly referring to me as "the girl who orgasms loud" when he would try to get my attention
She said I'm so hungry I could eat a dick and winked at me
I just got into the cab. It smells like weed and the driver looks like someone who may or may not be really talented at playing the saxophone. He also asked me my thoughts on porn when I told him I'm an actor. I might not make it home.
Something bad happened. I'm just giving you some notice. So you can smoke some pot and hide all sharp items in the house.
I feel like if you're funneling natty lights on a Wednesday at 2:30pm at the apartment complex pool during finals week, you probably don't have your priorities straight.
I'm starting to think that birthday sex is just an urban legend. Like the boogey man, and woman orgasms.
I know but at least you've never been asked to have sex dressed up like Catwoman
Had a dream I went to Disney to visit you and then I got really drunk and puked all over these little kids in line
If you're wondering about the mess, we had sex in the kitchen. There was noodles involved.
Just a little. Like do I say "hey I'm the girl that's fucking your son, nice to meet you"
I'm extremely upset that I wasted my "having sex with a guy at work" card on him
I was just seen throwin up on the bookstore building near a trashcan by parents. Naturally I throw a thumbs up and say go college
She is beauty she is grace
she’s masturbsting in front of an open window while drunk af 9am
i thought you had class
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