Trimmed my pubes and broke your paper shredder. Separate events.
He kept asking me to take off my bra and I sat up so he could. He fumbled with it for a few minutes and when I sighed and went to undo it he goes, "Yeah, you got this."
So then I sent a pic msg of the Magnum XL box to her friend
Awesome, the library of congress archived all tweets. Now my great great grandchildren can pinpoint the date they inherited alcoholism.
Most sexually ambiguous night of my life. Kept switching from the NBA finals to the Tonys.
I cant. There's fences everywhere and I think I have a boyfriend. Its fabulous.
I have a gash on my leg an a lobster leg in my purse.
like teasing for 28 minutes, then the very last 2 minutes is where is ALL goes down. I'm talking, rings off, stable sitting position, hand job madness.
He passed out again after sex. I've hidden all his clothes. There's no way he is sneaking out in the morning this time!
Come on down you're the next contestant on "lets go drinking!"
I have straight up perfected the art of amazing manicures with shaky-as-fuck adderall hands. Also, I'm way too proud of this.
Why do I feel like I need to drink to feel better about the things I do when I'm drunk
I'm in the line at Chipotle thinking: "What combo will best prepare my body for the open bar I'm going to subject it to tonight?"
Just realized I chose a bacon cheeseburger over sex last night
What I'm doing now is like me taking a bagel, dropping it butter side down, leaving it for six years, picking it back up, and trying to fuck it
Randomize
