and that's when the elephants and penises started dancing on the ceiling
Shit. Come in my room. Bring a trashcan and an icepack
no jill really. Evrything around me is talking to me. The plant, my dog, the tv,the lamp. Its amazing.
My drunk body wants to fuck you so bad, but my high mind is telling me it's too much work. I think I'm just gonna stay home and eat some Mac and cheese. Sorry.
Call me when you get up. This hang-over is like dismantling a bomb: I need someone to talk me through it.
I would take a bullet for Beyonce's baby
No more Raisinettes before sex. That's what happened. I just put it together
don't get you morals all over my torrid fantasties
It's been this way for a few days. I had chick fil a on Friday so this could be an attack from the Gay Gods as punishment.
so when our kids ask "when did you know you loved mommy?" you're gonna say "when she sent me emoticons about slobbing on my knob?"
Me hangover (as projected). That sounds like a plan. Ill do it for Mexico
Say whatever you bloody well like; you don't know the true meaning of life until you have smoked to a Sade cd.
I don't want sex or anything I just really need someone to appreciate how shiny my hair is
Is it awkward to pay for your boob job with scholarship money? Either way, it's happening.
just went home with a guy that made fun of me in elementary school. this blow job is not going well for him.
Randomize
