I just don't have the heart to tell my mom you peed in our washer machine last night.
there is just no excuse for touching your mothers vagina.
I would describe it as pure and unadulterated shock, mixed with horror and a touch of nausea.
A-plus on my thesis. I deserve the blowjob to end all blowjobs. And I wanna wear a crown while you do it.
She insisted on fucking on the futon mattress on the floor, answered the phone call from her boyfriend who was on his way to pick her up, and then had the audacity to ask if I was clean
I feel like my teeth are sweating.
As shirtless as possible
This morning I learned I traded my sunglasses for a Big Lebowski sticker at the football game.
That would warm my breasts.
In this context breast is a metaphor for soul.
He doesn't care. He wouldn't care if my vag grew arms and smacked him in the face.
It's all coming back to me. I drank moonshine from a milk carton from a guy named tomohawk last night.
Right now Tom has the 2nd floor office bathroom under siege. He shit/clogged one toilet, and he's throwing up in the sink.
And I'm determined to make an Eiffel Tower happen sometime. I just don't know who will take the pic (first world sex problem?)
I couldn't read the menu. I ordered the first thing I was able to read. Don't think I ate anything. Left $20 on the table.
So I couldn't find Leif..... He fell asleep in our closet upstairs trying to get changed into warmer clothes
Randomize
