Can't talk. I'm at the Tulsa Sheriff's office with a bunch of rednecks. I bet I'm the only one that voted for Obama.
I bet you're the only one who could read the ballott.
He' s half Black and half Italian, I finally asked...this penis maybe one for the records.
Queso dip and pictures of Daniel's penis. It's like the last days of Rome over here.
We held a candle light vigil outside the jail hoping for her release, until we realized we were drunk in the jail parking lot.
Went kayaking. drunk. DID NOT FALL IN. Mission succesful.
It was going great until he started saying "ooh kill em" under his breath with each thrust
I'm in your room because it's a safe space. Is it ok to pee in here?
Holy shit, I wanna ride him into the horizon.
I think I'm at a stage of my life where I subconsciously purposefully fuck everything up just to see if I can find a way out of it.
In retrospect i can confidently say that the last two months of our relationship... i was only in it because i didnt wanna lose my list on his netflix account.
I didn't rip your fishnets, WE ripped your fishnets.
I also woke up in a bed soaked of pee and drunkenly lectured him on the dangers of chewing tobacco... weird night
I had to carry him up the hill while he was wearing nothing but knee high socks and a blue glitter sequin leotard.
Why is this not a picture message?
There's something empowering about being at dinner and sitting across the table from two men you've blown.
i'll explain later but cookie monster is playing the xylophone
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