Tonight i am praying for god to turn my pussy into apple pie because i cant count the number of times bruce chooses food over sex.
I have a feeling this won't be the last time I wake up wrapped in a shower curtain with the words "Blame Bono" spray painted on it
He tried to say "god bless your heart" to the stripper but it came out "god bless your pussy"
We could make it a date. Dinner and a show. The show being my nipples getting pierced.
We spilled a whole bottle of mouth wash and then proceeded to roll around and make out in it. At least I smell minty fresh.
I'm convinced my penis is the only thing holding this relationship together.
There was a half eaten cheeseburger on my coffee table. Guess I made it to McDonald's.
Wait, whatever happened to locking our vaginas in closets?
No. DON'T DO IT. Friends don't let friends fuck clowns.
Idk man, we spent like 20 mins arguing about the moral ambiguity of fucking in someone else's car
girl pulled up to the stop sign, got out, threw up all over my hood said happy thanksgiving then drove off
Em I need to know if his cum tastes like vodka. Report back.
To be clear you just said "I'll give you a baby" as a sext?
I’m literally lecturing this class on professionalism, while my body is undoubtably covered in leftover cum from last night. I’m a fucking role model.
i feel like you should know pants are always optional
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