I woke up this morning in a strange bed with a kid with an accent playing with my feet.
I wish i could convert my hornyness to productiveness. I would have written a fucking book by now.
all ten of us were sitting in his room with the lights off and staring at his colorful moving screensaver for two hours. That high.
how bad would it be if i made his twitter my home page?
I just dropped macaroni right down my cleavage. For the sake of our future, I'm really banking on this being a turn on for you.
This is like the time you took a picture of your knees and told him it was your tits, isn't it?
I'm beginning to think the only reason I get laid anymore is girls are fantasizing sleeping with my dad...
I'm in the middle no shirt white shorts humping the white dustbuster next to the guy shooting off the tazer infront of the two guys humping on the bicycle
I knew us throwing ourselves at him back in the day would pay off. I'm gonna b a divorcees rebound. Score!
Like, I can't stand that bitch, but i genuinely hope she gets the help she needs
please let it be arousing that I used numbers to figure out how well I'd give you head
like, you weren't just lying there, you were wrapped in what appeared to be the skin of a wolf, chanting doomsday prophecies
THE END IS NEIGH
I thought I needed to get laid. Turns out I just needed pasta.
He has a syndrome called asshole. And it flares up 24/7.
Get ready for me I'm full of tequila and I want to be full of you next
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