He only uses me for sexual pleasure. The sad part is I don't even feel like a slut. I just I feel like I should just live in the top drawer of his nightstand....for free of course.
She's not depressed. She's just sober. It's like the same thing.
States back in the final four. Now our sunday night drinking has purpose. Sparty on baby.
Only your vagina holds the key to what happened last night.
WHOA. WHOA. WTF. WHOA. TOO HIGH FOR HIM TO BE ENGAGED RIGHT NOW.
You stumbled in the house, mumbled something about a cheese party, grabbed a block of cheese and the whiskey, and left.
You were such a shitshow...I was just standing in the kitchen eating my toaster strudel and you came in, whispered "you didn't see anything" and led him to the couch
Got home last night and found a Big Mac in the shower, tampons all over the place, and two pairs of your panties on the front porch.
N I'm drinking this invention I call "do-it-fluid" I had a bottle of vodka that was 3/4th empty, so I put in 1/4th rum, 1/4th tequila, 1/4th whisky... it's definitely the worst idea ever..
Yea we just broke up
so do we start sexting now or later?
Going to the ER, I'll explain later but apparently drunk me isn't allergic to peanut butter.
He whispered "Are you feeling it now Mr. Krabs?" when he was inside me. That is NOT my fetish.
"I'm pretty sure all our toasts were to Ben Afflecks penis last night."
he had hair everywhere except his balls
My soul is telling me that I need to take this exam naked.
Randomize
