Memo to the bitch sitting across from me at Swamp: no one thinks you're classy with your Louis Vuitton and your Burberry scarf when you're dragging on that cig like it was the last cock on earth and you needed cum for sustenance.
He can't get past my hymen. At least that's what he said it feels like.
It's impossible to flirt with the bank tellers because they see how broke I am.
I swear a good massage is the easiest way in my pants.
Not that there's a hard way... but you know what I mean.
I'm actually agreeing with glenn beck. What the FUCK was in that margarita?!
i found two dead squirrels on my front step this morning.. do you think they have something to do with my missing phone?
It's like split custody, only he's not a kid and they have sex with him.
I have no words
Neither did my mom, when she walked in on me squating with my balls in a cup of hot water.
Im shrooming at the foot of a tree on top of a mountain. Feeling fly as fuckin socrates and bon iver.
So to distract myself from jackies vomiting, im making up a story in my head. It's called the little penis that could
work has become about six times more interesting since i started fucking my boss.
I don't care what you say, the fact that he's a drag queen with the same shoe size as me is reason enough to date him
Dinner at my parents is vodka, lemonade, cheese ad crackers. Why would I leave?
I only have one kid whom I wish to hit in the face with an active jackhammer. How's work?
He's got the good dick trifecta - flip phone, works outside, bed with no headboard.
Randomize
