The highlight of my Saturday night was singing along to the sound of music alone in my room.
she went to type in rate my professors and rate my pussy came up in my recent searches. needless to say, i will likely be masturbating to the aforementioned site tonight.
we're making bets on your personal life
you cant keep talent like that locked up in a relationship
5 am booty call.. And I went I need to gain better control of my vagina
That's not a good night. A good night is waking up with no skirt, no money, and the imprint of the edge of the bar on your forehead.
My mom is lecturing me about 'invaluable housekeeping skills' while I google 'cocktails involving gin' on my phone. I can feel the generational gap looming in her silent judgment of my choices.
All I know is I was dancing to Shakira in his alley and I think rubbing my junk on his car door.
I have my vibrator between my thighs and I'm listening to high school musical. That kind of high. We're all in this together.
this case of pbr just wont end. i keep finding more.
I just put Gatorade in my wine, cause electrolytes, you know.
What the World Series means to me is that I've slept with too many giants fans.
We just fucked like crazy and now I'm dipping chips in macaroni & cheese. I feel completely accomplished. This may be the best day ever.
We banged in my car doggy style with my head out the window. The sky was marvelous and I saw a shooting star. Its destiny; we're meant to fuck forever.
I woke up this morning and had to retrieve my clothes from the flagpole, they were using my boxers as a makeshift rally flag for drinking. Yeah last night was a success.
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