I dont know why I dont listen to you more often. He wont stop texting me. And his signature is "dancing with no panties on"
you know how i said i wouldn't send that pic message of your lofted bed falling from you fucking a fat chick? that was after i sent it to your mom
she read insantiy as in-nast-tit-ty and asked what the hell does that mean...
To justify your stumbling you just kept yelling 'it's the boat, not the drinks' We hadn't even left the dock yet....
I made him recite stats from the playoffs game last night before I would go down on him.
I will start puting down the plastic for the vom in our love chamber. If you want to be something or someone else for the night feel free. The theme is shit show.
I'm there.
Me and your penis are best friends. You don't know it, but I whisper my secrets whenever I give you blowjobs. We even have a secret handshake. We can't be separated from each other. We just can't.
I've come to the conclusion while folding laundry and watching porn that I may be dead inside.
I mean, I can get to know him eventually. The time frame doesn't really matter. I'll have sex with him regardless of whether he's interesting or not.
He fucked a girl named Oreo... He deserved syphilis.
Is it bad to have a craving for speed? I feel like my nose is thirsty.
It's the building I live in, they were lucky I was wearing clothes at all
I think the reason she hasn't text me back is because I spanked her ass with Hulk Hands
I woke up in his closet, with my shirt inside out and backwards, Rolos in my hand, a tortilla with a face carved into it stuck to the fridge with a magnet, a homemade bong next to the bed, and the door off the hinges... I need a chaperone.
Here's the "to do" list i just found on my phone: buy stripper pole, make sex playlist, buy febreeze
Randomize
