: south campus drug res life name erik. Love, tran
Where are I am going home with Ryan
I don't know who this or Ryan is but it is probably too late to talk you out of it
Hindsight: maybe I should have included a few transitional texts in between talking about your son and my need to have sex. Do over?
there's no toilet paper. I'm using wheat bread.
I just wanted to yell " i am not a shake weight!!"
You kept throwing bottles at the dorm across the courtyard and when anyone told you to stop you just said "who are you? Al Gore?"
no, forget the keg and come see this. prego pants here is dunking chicken nuggets into pudding and crying over a cat show on animal planet.
I have got to stop singing on voicemails. I just left my dad a 6 minute musical message.
There is a large scratch and bruise about the size of a pizza bagel next to my vagina. Please text back if you know what happened.
All I need right now is some mouthwash, dignity, and security camera footage...
Apparently I stole windex from the cab driver. Klepto Tom strikes again.
okay, but you can't tell anyone. Every time he instagrams something with the caption "avocado," it means he's booty calling me. Happy?
I'm smoking a bowl in my bathtub. I'm meant to be alone.
He spent ten minutes post bj, limp cock still out, in shock repeating 'best blow job ever'. So yes, yelling I am the penis queen out the car window was justified.
He's here walking around DRUNK AS FUCK in a Kobe Bryant number 8 jersey... Tucked in.
Randomize
