I am like the Mr. Miyagi of queefs.
Nothing says "You're all grown up now" like setting up your 401k with shitty underwear.
you were making out, puked over his shoulder and insisted everything was okay
so i just calculated it and i would need to score 150% on this final to pass
how you manage to cockblock me from 500 miles away still baffles me.
I woke up to a bag of pies and a lot of questions
He was all like, "I've prayed every single day just for one more night with you."
Omg just give him a quick handy and walk out.
My dating life has become some fucked up hydra of dicks; you cut one off and two pop up in its place.
Not sure how a movie about Jesus has managed to make me feel insecure about my boobs but it has.
Not genetic. He's drunk and texted me a dick pic. Not genetic. Thank God!
i'm not sure what happened last night.. i do remember the police calling me to find out where i was because apparently at some point i went missing? don't worry though. they found me
I just had a guy ask me if his "jewelry downstairs" would set off the metal detector.
I'm serenading his dick with my words. I understand how poets get inspiration now.
I just want you to make me second guess my worth as a human. Is that too much to ask?
he'll eat me out, but god forbid we double dip when sharing salsa
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