We video chatted for almost two hours. But I woke up with puke on my keyboard. The question of the day: were we still chatting when I vommed? No idea.
the cop then proceeds to point out the "proud parent of a dare graduate" bumper sticker and say well i guess it's time to take that off
So at what point do I tell her that I like fucking these hot southern girls more than I like my relationship with her?
i'm going through an 80s music phase. and by phase i mean i will only have sex to white snake
Everything's fine I'm just stoned and my pillows are too soft.
But fine, we can play that game. You can come over and we can have totally platonic, long, boring discussions. Or we can fuck. Whatever.
I'm so tired of waking up with my bed full of deli meats.
You showed them your nipple for dollars for the jukebox. You were depressed because only one of your songs played. Oh then you twisted your ankle and blamed it on your mad stripper skills.
No shame in my game.
Look at all the pictures I have of us sucking on jello syringes.
It's twenty thirteen and the rando and I bonded over the fact that we're both stil using flip phones. Of course I fucked him in the bathroom. It was the obvious thing to do.
Dressing as mugato from zoolander Halloween you may want to be the hand model. We can get you a fish bowl filled with Clementine Vodka and soda you can put your hand in.
When I woke up next to him on the living room floor, my glasses were broken and it felt like someone rubbed a cactus all over my vag
I have wine with a bendy straw bitches I can do fucking anything
I want to conceive our bastard child on an athletic field. Why can't we make this happen?
Having a bangable neighbor is going to ruin my booty call game. I refuse to go across town for dick now
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