everytime i listen to a chris brown song and like it i feel like i bad person
she's sitting on the other side of the room at this party. with her smirnoff tucked in that little opening between her cleavage and shirt. drinking from a straw. snapping her fingers off beat.
it's love
and ill be dreaming of you. not in a creepy way, but in an inappropriate way
my feelings for you are synonymous with those of a grizzly bear and salmon. i don't want to nom on you; but i need you to survive
Actions speak louder than pants.
If she were to ever cheat on her husband, I'm positive I'm the the go to guy. Which flatters me and weirds me out at the same time.
Some might say its sad that I am willingly picking up a coke habit to be the skinniest bridesmaid... I think it shows my great dedication and proves I should have been maid of honor.
He was wearing a tux and a big sombrero so it automatically made the flute he was playing totally cool
He autographed my vag. This fuck just got authentic.
Also, the greatest of ironies: I got shampoo confiscated by security while Corey managed to get pot through. MERICA!
also, am i correct in guessing that advertising the size of my hypothetical penis is a turnoff to him?
There is nothing worse than the batteries of your vibrator dying on valentines day
the only thing she has in her apt so far is toilet paper and shot glasses. you can see where the priorities lie.
Election Day 2016 shall forever live in infamy as the day when I hobbled through my neighborhood, mascara melting down my face, wearing one slipper and a cast, blood and cum all over my skirt, carrying a box of wine, and no one even noticed.
will you help me invent vagina-safe pop rocks?
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