I'm going to write a book about John. It's going to be called big dreams, little dick
like literally i think i'm sweating out semen right now
i am going to show so many millionaires my nipple
Dude. He put me on a rewards point system for his dick. I have to do him favors now to build up to winning sex. This is shit.
Times like this, when you talk openly about Tinkerbell being your spirit animal, are times when I'm allowed to question your sexuality.
I'm going to text my booty call and tell him nevermind, that I got the job finished by myself. That will teach him to text back faster.
This lesson is brought you by a psychology class.
Who knew you could get a drunk in public when jogging with your dog?
So question, would you consider it morally wrong to grind up Cialas and put it in ones cocktail? Then I get what I want and he doesn't have to be embarrassed and he can win the mental game with himself? I'm only thinking of him...
So apparently I was a completely different person lastnight, one who drinks scotch and makes out with 55 year old men who look like inspector gadget
Apparently I had 2 bloody noses and after my sis put me to bed at the hotel, I escaped and my sister's friend found me in an elevator with some guy
You may be fancy. But you'll never be having cheesy garlic bread and scotch at 3am fancy.
This is like 50 shades on steroids but with healthy relationship models and mutual respect among all parties involved and lesbian activity.
You asked me if I ever met a talking rock and when I said no, you looked me dead in the eye and said today was my lucky day then you crawled into a ball and started talking...that high.
hot take: drunk me can walk through walls?
He bought me a bottle of Malibu. I think I could love this guy.
I've loved people for a lot less.
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