The party tonight has no theme but I decided to go as a home wrecker.
It was like a Michael Bay sized explosion located in my pussy.
I get so lonely sometimes I set my phone's alarm to go off every 5 minutes or so and imagine people are texting me.
just joined the mile high club. if this plane crashes because of this text, it was worth.
i wrote down the address for planned parenthood on the back of the receipt for the condom that broke
it was either that or behind a dumpster, and i am way too pretty to pee behind a dumpster
dude i woke up sitting indian style with my face on the ground and my hand in a bucket of ice.
nope, if she's going to skank it up with ginge-a-saurus douche she deserves the silent treatment.
The sad thing was my husband told her its ok to make out with me. Bar Tuesdays will live on regardless.
It's like that thing with the devil and the angel except one shoulder has orgasms and the other has stuffed crust pizza and depression.
I like the fact that you've for some reason taken my penis into protective custody
I'm like an air traffic controller of women. It's a very similar job. Well spaced and gentle landings are good. When they meet, it's bad. Explosions bad. Dying screaming burning children bad.
they saw the dick pic he sent and started calling him 'subway'
I would say that that is the last time I ever drink a bottle of jack in two hours, but really who am I kidding?
NOT PREGNANT HIGH FIVE!
Randomize
