My sheets at my parents place are clean. No braveheart but I can paint myself, yell "freedom", and sword fight you with my cock. So come over.
I bet the first cavemant to make fire got so much pussy
My mom is giving me a "don't tape yourself during sex" talk. It's going to be a long car ride.
That shot tasted like Sant Claus came in my mouth. I love the holidays.
I have to have sex with him again. I feel like I need to train him so no other girl experiences that bad of sex.
The only bad thing about this relationship... my forearm strength is dwindling
It smells like someone died in our apartment and ya'll used some random orifice of his body to smoke weed out of. Side note, how did we get a guitar?
Apparently my downstairs neighbors don't much appreciate it when I do drunk aerobics at 3am on a Wednesday...
he peed on his own floor last night after we left the bar. pretty much sums up how i feel about the evening
you taught an eight year old how to shotgun a half pint of chocolate milk, that's all i'm saying
I think I'm allergic to vodka. Or people getting engaged. One or the other. I want to die.
I was going through my mom's stuff to find her xanax, and I found her vibrators instead. Plural. That is like the opposite of what I wanted.
I feel like my map app knows I'm hungover and is strategically not driving me by fast food places so I cannot stop
It's the warm chocolate goeyness of a brownie combined with the heavenly taste of weed-smell... Why have I never done this before?
Just sent a nude with the caption "seasons greetings from our family to yours"
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