Ooooh. That's not a mole. Uncomfortable.
this kid in class is playing minesweeper and just slammed the desk because he lost. thank god were normal.
So, I just sold my textbook to have money for Plan B.
There's a hand-carved wooden bong in my backpack, and i really wish i could remember last night now.
I feel like I'm sitting in a sleigh of puddy. It's not a bathtub though because you need a sleigh to go down a mountain.
I just want him to slap me with his dick and call it love
Whiskey and I have a long and stories tradition of excellence
Big girls don't cry they get day drunk
The last thing I remember was riding in a grocery cart with two strangers while a cop pushed us
After last night I never want to be in the back of a cop car again. No leg room.
Self reach around competition is what the Olympics has been missing all along. A true test of athleticism.
I have just received a gold-medal-deserving sext. He wrote me a fucking novel. Not only am I incredibly turned on but I am beyond impressed. He is the sext god. I must bow to him.
You tried to pick a fight with a polka band saying that you'd wrap the accordion around their throats
You can accomplish quite a bit with a can do attitude and a well placed ice cube.
If he doesn’t slap your ass with his drumsticks, then I don’t wanna hear about it.
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