yes, the chronicles of narnia is exactly what happens when you do crack inside of a wardrobe.
Call me pathetic, but saying "tits for ireland" is working out really well on chatroulette today.
we usually just have an Easter beer hunt and never end up at church anyways
no sex. but he left me weed, so almost as good.
To say he's a good fuck is like saying the beatles had a bit of success. My vag is still mourning the fact he moved.
Idk how hard you fucked her, but you managed to leave permanent ass prints on my tempurpedic mattress.
I think my vagina is going to steal my keys and drive over there.
Hopefully she would park on my face.
All I want to do is fuck in the bell tower before it leave this school. Is that too much to ask?
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
he told me to hold it and try to write my name in the snow and it seemed like a bonding moment because neither one of us had ever done that before. i didn't anticipate it vibrating and weirding me out therefore making me let go and get my hand peed on.
When the question of, do you know who's ass has been on the cake you are eating is said... Good or bad party?
Woke up shivering behind the titty bar, With the worst leg cramps. I'm like a poster boy for responsibility.
Did you blackout Saturday before or after we had sex in a random snow bank?
You have not lived until you've slid down a waterfall fucked out of your mind. Fact.
I'm not asking for life coaching, I'm just asking if you know where I left my underpants.
Randomize
