That's your vagina. No one goes out and burns it
i was just skypeing her and i saw the vagisil medicated wipes in the corner of her room. i'll be breaking this off tomorrow
you came back at 4am in a suit jacket and a half eaten burrito...
I'm covered in egg mcmuffin wrappers and my room smells like dead hooker.
After they flagged you, you hid in a bathroom stall and text me to bring you more shots. That kind of drunk.
I puked on myself in front of a customer. all. over. myself. thanks Saturday nights
So here's my pathetic thought of the day: what does it smell like to be sober?
She's going to be the first to die of too much illness. Not even super bad stuff like cancer but like for having a cold at the same time as a sore throat and chlamydia or something. Just too much diseases.
I may be a feminist, but I am not above using my body to distract you if it means I might beat you in a game of scrabble.
This feels more like a conference of all the people I've fucked in the past year.
My room looks so cute. Who wouldn't want to hook up with me in here?
I ask him how he's going, like life and stuff, and he responds "20-0 pats"
Why can't they just let me be the gorgeous cum dumpster that I know I'm meant to be?
Pretty sure if we keep hanging out on Tuesdays there will be no whiskey left for the younger generations or the universe will implode....tomato tahmato
you had me at "meet me in the bathroom"
Randomize
