Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
Please dont jizz on my ds screen.
Her vagina is like Vegas. high traffic and full of glitter.
Sorry if I'm being weird. I'm dipping doritos in cabernet.
I drunk madeout with my mom last night. it's guna be an awkward breakfast.
Currently separating the burrito I just stuffed in my purse from the weed in my half smoken bowl that was already in it. My what the fuck moment beats yours.
bleeding from the face, sitting in a shopping cart and holding a wad of ripped caution tape. what else would i be doing?
Remember how I haven't seen my step sister in like 7 years? Pretty sure I just made out with her...
You forgot the part where I played Slip and Slide with my own puke and fucked up my knee.
FYI: Brian said he left me in the bathroom Friday night to shower and 45 minutes later found me with a towel around my head, my pants on and holding my boobs. No more Jell-O shots for me.
DROP EVERYTHING! Gatta go get tested for herpes, lets make an adventure out of it.
Let's go get coffee and handcuffs.
I literally wonder, frequently, "Will anyone ever fuck me until i go cross eyed for 2 hours again?''
She tried to fuck me right at the bar in front of everyone. She actually got my pants unzipped before I realized what was going on.
I showed up drunk and covered in glitter, smelling like stale booze and dirty stripper and my younger brother gave thanks his life wasn’t a shitshow like mine
That’s how my thanksgiving went
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