We need to start having rules for the weekends. Like no more downing 3 shots because we want to slut dance a little harder or because biggie just came on.
He was sucking my nipples then stopped, looked me dead in the eyes and said "im gonna cum for my babygirl"
And I can say one thing, I look pretty good in high wasted pants. I don't know if that helps. But I do. God I'm high.
Can't even walk I haven't tried talking but I probably can't do that either
I feel my soul being ripped out of my eye sockets
What should I say back?
Well, how do you want the conversation to go?
Straight into my pants.
He ended up buying the equivalent of dinner at a Mexican place, in weed
I found the crust to my pizza under my covers that's cool
she definitely didn't appreciate it when you justified bringing her home by yelling to me "fat bitches need love too"
what do we think the timeline is for when your liver will begin to revolt against your drinking habits?
Spent tonight painting strippers in camo.
This is like 50 shades on steroids but with healthy relationship models and mutual respect among all parties involved and lesbian activity.
I'm covered in glow paint and shame. I'm never leaving this country
He makes bad life choices and drives a wagon, how is that not my type?
Hey, what's the French word for when you meet your boyfriend's friend and you have that gut feeling that you smoked pot naked in a hot tub with him at a house party years ago?
Randomize
