your butthole totally puckers for the ginge
Where are I am going home with Ryan
I don't know who this or Ryan is but it is probably too late to talk you out of it
the party we crashed was not a party. the party we crashed was jens grandads funeral.
Can you please check on Jay? He just called and left a Backstreet Boys song on my voicemail. Either it's 1998, or someone needs to go back to rehab.
Going to a party tonight. Sorority girls will be there. Primary goal of the night: make one cry. Secondary goal: become a father.
A very small part of me wants you to appreciate me for more than just my breasts. But the rest of me is breasts.
alright. I just need to set some ground rules, no lighting me on fire, and no broken bones. fair?
Commuter bitches be judging your sister and her bag fulla wine. It's a motherfucking rosé, bitch!
I figure even if it starts out as just sex I can bang him into loving me
Running my fingers through my hair is like that scene from Patch Adams where the girl goes swimming in a pool of spaghetti. I love molly.
I just swallowed confetti and motor-boated some guys beard...#happy2015
im shaving my vagina and listening to frank sinatra, im coming over after
In other news I was masturbating last night and came really fucking hard to the thought of yelling at a customer....
Dad danced on top of the bar with me last night. And has a video of me doing a beer bong.
Let the record show that I hate your ass.
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