I tried to tell him it was only 2:00, but he said since it was 5:00 in New York, it was perfectly acceptable. He then put on a Blues Brothers hat and a pair of wayfarers and left. I expect him home in a few hours with a police escort.
weed, chlorine, and victory. my bed smells like i had sex with michael phelps.
I thought it couldn't get worse until she said "Nipple hair"
I'm questioning the dried chocolate syrup on my tits.
I'm the saddest girl in a tutu right now.
She's like a connoisseur of porn. Her collection has things in it I never even knew existed. She even has an Italian batman porno. Where has she been all my life?
The last text I sent him was about nachos. Frankly, if he can't respond positively to that he can fuck off...
I dreamt of sea otters and your boobs. My two favorite things.
Might as well permanently tattoo lush somewhere on my body and show it to people when I decide to drink so they won't serve me.
Is it wrong that I want to do a nude photo shoot with nothing but a light saber?
you got drunk, told him he looked like shaggy and said 'I wouldn't show you my mystery machine for all the scooby snacks in the world'
I gotta give him props though, I've never been propositioned for sex via flash mob.
The last time I saw her someone was carrying her on a bike and she was yelling that she was E.T.
He's far too busy staring into my soul to touch my tits.
My vagina is very pro this idea
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