I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
Her hair smelled like a rat dipped in mustard on fire
Can we just schedule bi-weekly fucks and bypass all the bullshit?
We had literally Just finished having sex when he handed me a plan B and said he lied about wearing a condom.
On a positive note, new entry in my phone as 'HOT ASS, DOWN TO FUCK'. idk if its a boy or girl tho.
Update, its a couple
as she was beating the hell out of his ex, she screamed prison rules, and smashed her head with a beer bottle. I'm oddly afraid yet so attracted to her now.
By the power invested in me, I now pronounce your taco to be meaty. Meaty taco meaty taco meaty meaty meaty taco.
Please stop using me as a reference for bail bondsmen.
It's really not cool dreaming about going into labor with your ex boyfriends love child as you're sleeping next to him.
We really gotta change brands again because 2-ply is making us feel like the celebrities we aren't.
He gave me the choice between a threeway with his best friend or a tiny turtle. Unfortunately I chose the threeway.
I love the smell of your bedroom. It smells of a mixture of cherries, leather, and unrequited homosexual desire.
All I ever wanted was my bed, Tylenol, and total darkness. Instead I had a pervert with porno posters who blares german rock calling me tootsie pop. How was your saturday night?
This is a hangover from hell. Delivered by the devil himself.
thank you for the vibrator recommendation, i've come six times today and it's only noon
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