google image searching george stephanopoulos at 1 AM on a saturday night...once again
I'm think I may have given your ex's number to a convicted sex offender.
Win!
WHY DOES GOD HATE MY DICK
we found you eating frozen orange juice with a spoon and then drinking vodka from the bottle.
And there I was, sitting Indian style on the kitchen floor, my fingers covered in peanut butter.
Unless you can cure my hangover with your penis I'm not interested.
Ate apple sauce off his penis. Nutritious and slutty.
Somehow me showing up to/breaking into her house only to find I was a week early for the party became a night of weed cookies and sex.
I honestly can't remember your justification for putting peanut butter on your cell phone.
I just farted and its sounded like it was disappointed in me.
Yeah, I only wore tennis shoes under the gown. Way cooler than khakis and a shirt, but much more awkward when my parents wanted to go to dinner immediately after the ceremony and my grandmother started to unzip the gown. Stopped her before it was too late, but barely. My dad just rolled his eyes.
Unless your apology includes a 20 something with loose morals and a daddy complex, I'm am not interested
That jawline could fucking have its way with me.
Driving, getting head and talking to your boss on the phone is not a good combination. I nearly died
I'm on a walk of shame carrying YOUR pants. You owe me.
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