I don't know what's more pathetic, the fact that you dated him or the fact that it took a Taylor Swift song for you to break up with him.
if you lined all their dicks up next to eachother, it would be like at&t bars
It's a special occasion. Hence the 151.
And by hung out you mean you were in my bed for 5 minutes while your penis was in my mouth.
Just high watching the holiday fireplace channel. My space heater lends authenticity to the fire experience. Come over.
I feel like every man should aspire to get a blowjob from a sword swallower.
Let's fuck under the stars. And by under the stars I mean in my bed underneath my glow in the dark star stickers.
I should not be this drunk in a place where a girl is wearing a princess dress
I think you should do the fixer upper relationship. Like lawyers do pro bono work with underserved populations, you can do pro bono relationship work.
I'm over being sad. I'm now onto thinking about all the ways in which he is a total fuckwaste
There is a fake eye lash glued to one of my balls.
I think I'm so comfortable in my sexual relationship because he mostly wants to see me naked with large plates of bacon tastefully placed upon my body
Real life skills section of my resume: blow jobs, food knowledge trivia, sarcasm, mascaera application, sexting, tolerance of rail liquors
It was funny for a while but 3 days later I still can't walk and I've constructed a diaper-like contraption to hold the ice pack on my vagina.
Imagine we only get one cock for the rest of your life. I’d pick his dick. That good!
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