Ps there is totally a drug addled prostitute in olympic pizza asking for change for a 100 bill
I'm going to an arts college, I live next to the frat houses, and my room number is 420. god has plans for me and I couldn't be happier.
Every perfect package comes with a warning label.
The gyno asked how many partners i've had... I said ummmm she goes ok then i'll just put down ten.
facebook friend requested him the morning after while he was still asleep in my bed, a whole new level of creeper even for me
He introduced me to his parents as the girl he made out with on Thursday night...
I don't care that you fucked her. I'm offended that once again, you fucked someone with me in the room because you assumed I was asleep.
We are not buying weed off a guy from the internet.
Wake up. We're going shopping for booze and samurai swords.
think of it as grooming, as if he is my Kate Middleton and I'm grooming him to be a presentable princess
Texas awaits me. And all the cocks that live there too.
It's like the bat signal. He only texts me when I'm naked.
I'm not in it for just the sex. If I wanted mediocre dick once a week I would have stayed with one of my exes.
I was on top for a full on make out when in dead silence "I'm moaning Myrtle" came from the TV. Moment ruined. I got cock blocked by a fictional ghost
I trusted a fart in Toronto. NEVER TRUST A FART IN TORONTO.
Randomize
