I don't think I can fit "I'm sorry for ruining Christmas" on one cake. Better make two.
I think the best part was when you jumped over me naked.
Well I squeegeed the puke off your arm at the gas station
I miss the smell of you or some shit.
I WALKED myself out of breath. And I'm lost I'm a Tim Hortons parking lot. That's how hungover I am.
He was puking up tons. He aimed his face inside his coat. Not a drop in my car. Then he thanked me for the ride.
Yeah, but she is forever sending my vagina on some sort of mission.
The amount of knuckle children I've had to the Farrah Abraham sex tape is disturbing and impressive
No foreplay. Missionary. Too quick. And he owns a fedora.
I almost fell asleep reading that.
I almost fell asleep fucking it.
I fucking hate tequila. Tequila makes me hate pants.
Driving home this morning in my minion costume makes me rethink the 0 tint on my windows.
Great news. Our sex broke my otter box
Listen, dont tell me about your day or that your mom is in town. Don't ask me to drive you to the airport or proofread your paper. Text me when and only when you have a boner. Oh and take your pants off and leave your front door unlocked because I'm coming over.
I honestly don't understand how your night went from singing a touching rendition of Africa to an angry political rant to low key trying to find a frat boy to bang to doing dishes to yoga
It wasn't intentional or anything but I've now had sex with all of your siblings. How's college going?
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