Your mouth is God's brothel.
So, apparently I made everyone omelets last night. Even when I'm drunk, I'm still a trophy wife.
we're ranked number 5 for having the most pot in the country for a university school. idk if i should feel worried or just plain blessed.
and that's why he's hiding in the taco suit
I managed to make myself a bowl of apple jacks, took one bite and had to stop eating them because they were making my brain wiggle. How was your comedown?
Happy cinco de mayo!! Puke filled sombrero in the lawn needs to be picked up and whos never punched my fence boards in half needs to replace those by the way the owner of those panties (see attached photo) anytime you wanna cum over;-) hiii!
That's not as bad as watching a dumb ass drunk peeing into your window fan -
I think I'm crying more because after all these years he never learned to spell you or use a comma properly from me
So here's my pathetic thought of the day: what does it smell like to be sober?
Fell asleep on kitchen floor again, chicken nuggets everywhere.
Did we have sex last night?
No. You laid in my bed and I brought you taco bell.
Why is there a slipper full of piss in my bedroom?
So now I know what having sex while surrounded by chickens feels like.
Just because I'm sleeping with him doesn't mean I'm in love with him, it means that I want to have sex with someone who isn't a serial killer.
Somehow I don't think offering me edibles is what dad meant by checking in on me
They're the hard candy kind!
Randomize
