There's a "art of the blow job" class in the city. We should go
Baby, I'm all set with that. That would be like trying to teach bruce lee how to kick someone in the head
before you smothered your pizza in mayo you blotted it with a napkin saying you were trying to watch your fat intake
currently hungover, lying in bed and cutting cheese with my drivers license. ashamed? not even a little bit.
Careful, it's a slippery slope to discovering you're bisexual...trust me.
You screamed 'no, YOU put some pants on' at a cop. I pretended not to know you.
Had a grope session with a girl who looked like my Mom and had the same name as her as well. I think therapy is in order.
You popped the Plan B pill then clapped twice, said "mischief managed" and headed tward the bar.
He said I was really mad at him on Friday. Dude I fell asleep in all my clothes and shoes, with my flashlight on, on my phone... I could have been mad at the wall. It wasn't my classiest day.
I found it. now I'm going to the gym to be "healthy" or whatever that folklore is called.
I apparently pulled his dick out at the bar and started yelling "DICK PICS IN REAL LIFE!"
we got cupcakes after we fucked. gives a whole new meaning to sugar daddy
masturbating on the freeway is more stressful than it sounds
I'm beginning to think shitting his pants is just a normal thing for him.
not only was there glitter in the toilet after i peed, but there was some on the toilet paper after i wiped. this cant be healthy.
I'm that daughter that had to send her mother "DON'T GET SHITFACED" & yes, in ALL CAPS.
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