I dont get chicks, its like they only care about themselves and money
sounds like you understand them just fine
I haven't worn deodorant in like three days and have been laying around in my underwear listening to music and drinking. I think i've made my own Bonnaroo in my apartment.
He just said "I made some changes in my life. The male g-spot is in the rectum and I wanted to explore that."
woke up this morning with a pool of champagne in my purse. apparently i was saving it for later.
literally every day that goes by where he doesn't talk to me makes me more determined to get him to have sex with me
i walked in the apt and she was vacuuming. i asked why and she said so we could have sex on the floor. i love clean freaks.
Its like the unofficial aniversary of the loss of her virginity. And I will be giving tours of the spot they did it in and showing how I'm serious when I say the grass doesn't grow there anymore.
Also, I imagined that his bacne was bubblewrap and that made it much more tolerable
I took a few sips of my hugeee bottle of liquid Vicodin and smoked my one hitter and now I'm going thru my attic like Indiana Jones
The orgasm outlasted the Charlie horse. Pros and cons.
And I feel like pitchers of margaritas accidentally make it down your throat a lot.
I mean, the lady at the Mexican restaurant insisted. She said she would win a prize if she sold another pitcher before noon. And plus I got to wear a sombrero
So I've been spending my morning trying to figure out if there's a corealation between Wednesday margarita night and the boat that's now in my living room.
on the bright side i found your panties and the lid to the nutella
Sharted again. Stuck in traffic. Fuck
The air taste purple.
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