As it turns out, strippers don't accept checks.
You rubbing siracha on a cat with your feet is the opposite of what I want.
Gees I domt know what your deal was. You kept looking at Nick and shaking your head frantically and doing a weird motion with your hands
Tgat was the small dick alert
At least you got some premium homework time. Still drinking vodka from a coffee cup?
I switched to water. When the numbers get blurry you are no longer being productive.
i feel like there is just so much pressure to sex him up, its like the weight of the world is on my vagina.
Tried to dodge fire in poncho. Fell through fence. Blood everywhere.
Flaming shots last night. Missing an eye brow. There a connection?
Just saw Santa sitting on a restaurant patio drinking beer and using his free hand to gesture to cars that he's watching them
You're a waste of cheezeits
His cat kept scratching my feet while we were having sex. There's only room for one pussy around here. It also concerns me that he owns a cat.
You seriously don't remember crying about how much you miss your mom right before we hooked up?
It was really strange. I feel like I had sex with a synchronized swimmer.
We broke up. And I told him he better give me my fucking star wars movies tomorrow. Priorities.
It began the way the best stories do—with some naïve jackasses in a place they had no business being at.
He drives a PT Cruiser.... that should have been my first clue.
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