Dipping chips in queso and thinking of your beautiful face
Too long to explain. Basically I started an electircal fire. No one was hurt except for a box of cereal near the outlet.
Just because I tried to backhand you with a fist full of cash does not make me violent
they were having sex on the toilet apparently and everytime someone knocked they flushed. it was like an auditory scoreboard of sex duration.
But he's not just anonymous male genitalia anymore. I've met him, I've seen his face.
Posh spice and Baby spice both in one night. Fantasy complete. God bless halloween.
i came so hard i kicked through my windshield
You is good. You is important. You is a slut.
In the mean time, I'll continue to kick ass at running and become a successful stripper while he might hook up with one average looking girl he met at a club. I so win.
You know how last week before we left I was drinking outta that blue cup and I left it sitting across the road. Well, it hadn't moved and my family just found it, brought it inside and cleaned it. I think this cup is my soulmate.
My father has a definite type: blonde, busty, 18-22. It was awkward when I was in college, but now I'm over it. I play wingman for him and he buys me expensive purses for the assistance in getting him hooked up with girls younger than me. Win-win.
I duct taped a bottle of vodka to the back of your closet while you were sleeping in case of emergencies. Go rip it off, it's going to be a long night.
I think we have some hyper-understanding of each other when drunk, because looking back at our text convo from last night, they were literally just jumbled letters.
He only has one ball. it was like fucking a cyclops.
We left an ass print on the conference room table, but I don’t think anyone caught on
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