Last night i stole a disco ball from a frat house by pretending i was pregnant.
I just snuked. Sneezed and puked
you made them have somersault races with you thru the lobby..
To say the least, now you know you're a proper lady, passing a field sobriety test in heels...
The bartender just asked me if I owned stock in Jameson. I've been here for less than an hour and he's already judging me.
There's just something about a dollar tree pregnancy test that screams THIS WASNT PLANNED!
we all took turns holding you up and pretending that you were simba and that we were presenting you to the jungle
ex-cheerleader. ex-gymnast. ex-dancer. i dont even know who to go for tonight
All right cuz right now I'm in one of those moods where the shear thought of doing anything more strenuous than making a sandwich has me wanting to curl up in the feeble position and splash around in a puddle of my own tears.
As his dick went in he shouted GOAL at the top of his voice.
Brian got his first ever blow job last night. We should make him a scrapbook.
Just set out 2 water bottles as an offering to my hungover self.
At least your nickname is not Plunge Slut and that nickname is not in a published thesis work
All I want to do is lay in my bed and eat hotdogs
Just called to hear your voice and talk about pizza.
Randomize
