the party we crashed was not a party. the party we crashed was jens grandads funeral.
He told me I took off my shirt, asked for the latino thunder and jumped on him. I want to question this but it sounds too much like me.
When i say that im working late and also have a paper to write before 9am tomorrow all i want u to respond is saying that ur gunna come over and sexually distract me from my responsibilities. Not a fucking frowny face.
Sorry. Im on my way.
You brought us all personal gifts you had stolen from the party and bellowed "hoes hoes hoes, clepto Santa loves you"
fun fact: in my eskimo family tree i am the only brunette
I would have gladly let him decapitate me with the way he was biting on my neck.
Ya. I wonder how much being a beard for a major league baseball player pays. This could be a lucrative arrangement...
Wanna play whack-a-mole in my pants?
Your word choices worry me.
Jäger goes great with personal crises and receding morals...
You rubbed a frozen pizza in my face. The concerning part was that it was semi cooked from our body heat
This is what happens when you leave: I get all vulnerable and I make out with the cowboy to shut him up about Jesus.
These flip flops mean I'm casual, but I'm here to fuck.
Drunk level: ugly crying in the bar upon discovery of sweet tarts and not smarties.
I can't believe I haven't fucked an Elvis impersonator yet.
Ok so I'm not gonna ignore the fact that you had sex on a frat basement floor and spent the last 4 years wondering how you got HPV
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