Call me Kermit cause I'm about to go piggin
I have had it with that bitchy sack of crazy. Iam done!
I just remembered before I gave him head I couldn't find a hair tie and he offered to hold my hair up. Maybe we were wrong.. Maybe he does have a heart.
I always know the weekend is over when the real license comes out and the fake goes back into the hiding spot.
I am not kidding you. There is an airport luggage cart overturned in my driveway. We need to stop going to the airport bar.
THE BIG GAY MAD HATTER IS HERE AND HE HAS DRUGS IN HIS PANTS FOR YOU. COME DOWNSTAIRS BITCHEZZZZ
I repeat the shot was ON FIRE. I am never going to a pirate bar again.
I think it got a little awkward for her when my dad walked in on us and did nothing except leave half of his pizza on the table for us.
She kept sniffing my sweater and tried to guess what type of detergent I use.
Maybe if more guys knew my pillowtalk occasionally includes me scribbling notebook diagrams of cell signalling pathways, I'd get laid more often
Whatever. That's why I am to be babied like a calf. I regret nothing.
Your vagina doesn't want to be violated with garnishes. I get it.
And in that, my finest lazy stoner moment, I used my cleavage to hold my bowl steady while I packed it laying down in bed.
my friends roomated asked me this morning if we went to mcdonalds last night and i had no idea...that is until i checked my purse and found half a mcdouble in it...
Sometimes I feel like my vagina has a photographic memory of his penis. It sucks that he got engaged....
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