Dont touch anything! You just got rid of your crabs!
he is the anna nicole to my 90 year-old billionaire. i'm grateful that he's fucking me, so i'm buying him shit.
Stripper pole. Sore legs. More vaca money.
This essay is so getting done. I am spurred on by thoughts of test-driving your newly shaven face by sitting on it as soon as humanly possible.
He got a slutty, ugly mother of a 7 year old, and I got a dog that only sleeps and shits on clean clothes. No one won in this break up.
Put it this way, at one point I was getting stoned on the roof of the strip club with one of the strippers while another one gave me a free lap dance. That wasn't even the best part of the night.
It's not that he's ugly its just that being blind folded makes everything less awkward
There's no way I'm ready for marriage. I have too many pics of other guys' junk on my phone for an eternal commitment right now.
People were staring and acting all judgmental and offended... Like they've never seen anyone breastfeed in a liquor store.
I just literally had a dance party in my closet. I've never been this blazed.
Be my booze princess bebe. I'll rescue you from the lame tidings you are confined to up in the sober castle.
It's cuz all she eats is salt lick, human souls, and fast food
ok so i took my anxiety medication and i'm eating junior mints and i think my vagina will be ok
The fact our science teacher from high school was buying us drinks and hitting on me doesn't matter.
You couldn’t remember the word hand jibber. Instead, your drunk ass offered the bartenders “unlimited hand fritters” if they wouldn’t cut you off.
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