I feel like death. And death is wearing a fleece blanket as a dress. And is seriously contemplating wearing this to go get something to eat.
oh vodka. i could write you a sonnet.
I just couldn't load the family groceries on to the same seat where I had sex 12 hours ago.
I just don't know what he sees in my vagina...and that scares me.
I wanna take him on a special date, something that says I banged your brother but since he moved I want you
God damn. I'm really starting to resent babies. They're everywhere. Like fucking land mines.
We told our cab driver we'd give him 3 grand if he pit maneuvered you guys in your cab.
He's just so adorable. And I don't want to fuck someone who's adorable.
The last time I've felt a woman's touch, the twin towers were compromised. You can wait like one week
I don't think he cares about your inhospitable uterus.
It was a tough decision either lay in bed or go to work and lay in the stockroom
we were running around the halls trying to bloodhound search out the source of the weed smell, but we ran into six other people doing the same thing, and they all said they assumed it was us.
I used my mad pharmacist skills to turn ordinary birth control into morning after. I think my professors would be proud.
My hands smell like penis... I can't even remember the last time i touched a penis, but my hands say i did. Oh the mystery.
He is 6'5, went to a Christian school and he's a violinist....I'm going to fuck the jesus right out of him.
Randomize
