Come to the Burger King. We're waiting for you.
I had to get a ride home from that girl that slept with 3/4 of the band
Whatever it was. it was pregnant.
literally every day that goes by where he doesn't talk to me makes me more determined to get him to have sex with me
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at first i was worried but she assured me her frail vegan body would have no chance at conception.
They just caught the deck on fire and I ran out with cups off the beer pong table filled with water from the toilet. It was the closest water source.
LSD in a sugar cube. Dropped it in my whiskey sour and felt like I was rowing a boat.
Definitely want to eloquently cunt punt those bitches thru the field goals of life.
She sat on the toilet backwards so that she could hold onto the back part for balance. No she's not ready to go home.
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I've had to much cheese to give a fuck about anything. im tired.
If our text convos ever saw the light of day lives would be in tatters
Besides. I don't even really like sex because it feels great. I like it because for thirty minutes I own that guys ass.
My arrest report says I was found in midtown "performing lewd and lascivious acts on top of art meant for public display and enjoyment".
I hate ovaries. They're horrible little sacs of satanic enmity.
That's the most poetic description of female anatomy I've ever heard.
Please don't buy a buttplug. It won't fill the empty space in your heart.