yea and when she crawled to her room she yelled at a bookbag to "get the fuck out my way"
if the best thing you can say about him is "he probably wont kill me" you may want to rethink hanging out with him
The last thing I remember is him grabbing my ass and telling me he knew where the jello shots were, so I followed him.
i broight you flpweers amd vodka. open yoir bask door
Serious questions. Who is that girl? Why is she wearing a tiara? And why does she keep asking about penis piercings?
God loves me. So high, craving Jimmy Johns chips, looked down, unopened bag in front of me. Still doesn't feel real
I like to imagine god has to get plastered to deal with the fact that he made you and me
I no longer believe that the road to self esteem is through his penis.
I knew it was a bad night when the only thing I could remember was you force feeding me tortilla chips as I hugged the tire of my car and begged to have my stomach pumped.
I think we r still a few steps from ex sex. In fact, that's never going to happen. I'm just saying on the seething-chemical-fire-of-emotional-distress-to-post -relationship-intercourse scale, I'm closer to fucking than throttling. Progress is fun.
Holy shit, I just successfully took and sent a boob pic AT MY DESK I have conquered an entire new level of skill.
And I made some girl take out the trash, load and unload the dishwasher, swifter, and clean the counters. So don't act like I don't do anything.
Crust to egg proportion prescribes to a pedantic form of quiche. It's like saying breakfast pizza isn't pizza at all.
I put him in the supply closet, used the copy paper to build a fort around him and his wheelchair, then he fucked me in the fort.
I would totally suck a dick for some poutine right now
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