It must be a full moon weekend. All of my weird booty calls are coming out of the woodwork. I spent 40 minutes on the phone last night telling one why he is so creepy.
pedialite and red bull = repair kit
dude we were making out and she kept singing the americas next top model song. you wanna be on top?
i just learned how to squirt via google. life is good.
Burger king has cupcake flavored milkshakes. God dammit America.
id like to point out that while i was just peeing a condom fell out of my vag.
I don't care how old I am, if it's your 21st birthday I'm going to make out with you.
Everything sucks i just wanna cry and smoke a bowl and pet my cat and die. All at the same time
Nothing motivates a person to clean their apartment like puking up cheese ravioli beer-tequila chicken wings for eight hours.
In the middle of having sex she stopped, said "guess what, it's clitoris awareness week" and then continued fucking me
I stared at him for a solid five minutes because he looked like what I imagine god would look like if god was a lumberjack
I'm just imagining Oprah like "you're popping a boner, and you're popping a boner...EVERYONE IS POPPING A BONER"
He was wearing a diaper to the party. I've never felt like such a creep in my life.
I need to find a more reliable booty-call so I can start dating people and take it slow.
I'm with the cops, Trish's gay husband stabbed himself and is framing her for attempt of murder and I'm dressed 4 the club I'm wearing leather pants leather jacket leather boots and black club top. Embarrassed
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