you texted me last night and told me you couldn't find the toilet.
That explains the puddle of pee in my closet.
It's my birthday, I plan on masturbating and boating, maybe even masturbate on the boat.
I have a page in my 2010 scrapbook dedicated to pictures of his cock.
he slapped my stomach and proclaimed it a baby-free zone
Whales. Broccoli little trees giant. Magic in cat form. I want my loco and juice. Black in shower. Brb remember life.
Just missed the last train for another 5 hours. There are balls in or around the mouth of my life.
The only way I can describe the noise he makes when he has an orgasm: dying walrus.
nothing says "functioning mature adult" like sneaking beer out of your mom's fridge in a lunchbox
I'm sorry but I require more work than your hamster. I need food, a minimum of 5 pillows, and I need to be played with daily.
How am I supposed to be friends with him when there's an exact replica of his dick in my underwear drawer?
fuck Derek. I choose weed. weed isn't angry and would never ask me to be someone I'm not.
My sobriety has gotten out of control. I think I need an intervention.
You're either getting fucked or a coupon to Friendly's. I haven't decided yet.
Do you think if I had a tempurpedic bed he would still be able to feel me fingering myself after we have sex?
we thought it would be safer to lock you in the car alone downtown than take you back home to pass out
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