By the way, shout wipes are a gift from god for people that throw up on themselves.
wicked high...have munchies. cherry flavor lube. problem solved.
thanks for brining me home and putting me in my bed. the pillow fort your built around me is also appreciated.
Also, I once came to the conclusion after this one boy, that her pleasure condoms are a college boys version of flowers
I swear if his heart was half the size of the cum stains he's left on my sheets we would have the perfect relationship
She passed out on top of the bar. Still did body shots off her.
There is only one good excuse for how sore I am right now. And that is incredibly acrobatic sex. Unfortunately for me that is not my excuse.
Just smoked out of an apple with Steve Jobs. I love Halloween.
I send him pictures of my tits whenever I feel like he's paying too much attention to his girlfriend.
I just got attacked by a swarm of butterflies. Nothing is okay anymore.
I just dried my bra with your hair straightener because the drier is broken again.
Literally the only clue I have to try and figure out my blackout adventures is a draft on twitter that just says "Mummies alive!"
When you didn't respond I figured you must be busy so I'm home in my pj's 2 beers in and stoned from weed I got from my gaybours. They also gave me cake. I'm not moving from this recliner.
I may have just sent her dad a picture of my penis. His name's Myron, right?
eating a weed cupcake with nutella on top at work. i AM a star!
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