Last night drunk me texted a sure to be hungover me my class schedule and locations for today. I'm like a mom preparing her child for the first day of school
I am assuming I was his dirty Mardi Gras mistake and I can live with that
My shoe was in my mailbox this morning. I can't stay sober today.
Lets be real here, you loved it when I was on top. With and without the machete.
Dick in my face. Dick in my face. Dick in my face. Dick in my face. Dick in my face. Dick in my face. Dick in my face. Dick in my face.
I'm sitting on our balcony drunk. And in my underwear. Our relationship with our neighbors may improve.
Cat. Why do you sit on things I need to use.
Because it is cat.
His water bottle is sitting on my coffee table like a monolith dedicated to the things he is not doing to my vagina.
But I did spend part of my morning scrubbing your cum off my grandmothers piano.
It's accurate though. I am legitimately passionate about pickles. I crave pickles the same way I crave sex. It is a deep rooted animalistic need
He wrote on the bartenders notepad "phone?" So I wrote back "911"
oh i see... well this is a positive first step in you courting him for sex.
I'd just like to take a moment now to apologize sincerely for getting drunk and making an as of myself at your Christmas party next week. I'm especially sorry for sleeping with your baby sister.
I broke my wrist trying to give him a blow job...
And this is why we can’t have nice things
He hit me with his bagpipe
Isnt that against the lesbian handbook?
Randomize
