oh no, I think we did it in the 'front asshole'
you kept saying "no santa, im not having sex with you. it's not your holiday".
i just remembered i chipped my tooth last night when i pulled up your pants zipper with my teeth
I don't want to talk. I just want to motorboat those tits
I drank butter last night, who am I to judge?
I told him he wasn't aloud to one word text me. Unless that one word was threesome
ask me again when I'm sobewr aka tuesday
I'm sitting outside your room listening for sex noises eating pepperoni...slowly
He recreated the night that started all my mothers days. We shared a joint, drank Boones Farm, and dry humped to the Beastie Boys. Then I cried over MCA's death. Best. Gift. Ever.
I don't care if my next phone has to run on the blood of virgin koala bears, I don't want to be scrambling for a charger.
My favorite part of you downing a fifth of fireball in my apartment by yourself is the shot glass in the sink. It's like you attempted moderation and were just like "Fuck this."
He said my vagina is harder to escape than the Temple of Doom.
Pretty good. Thinking about getting day drunk and filling out job applications so I don't hate myself as much
I just feel like if we dated, he'd just be crying the entire relationship
I don't know where I'm at. But I'm pretty sure what I'm looking at is a small bear.
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