He called me "the Joe Montana of blowies." Not sure if that is an accomplishment or an insult, but going off of the amount of condensation on the windows of my car, I'm gonna just do a little touchdown dance and pass out.
They have edible shot glasses at target.
There really is a God.
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
I just peed on my pajamas. Its gonna be a long night. Don't forget the cookies.
He talked me into making a sex video, no worries though, I was wearing sunglasses.
she slipped a pinky in my ass. Not sure if I came because I liked it or if I was terrified by it.
We were naked in bed for hours and we didn't have sex. Either he's gay or he wants to respect me. Neither of which I approve of.
I kind of want to throw a lot of things at him. Mostly blunt, heavy objects.
I like literally had a visual image of his penis going into your soul
First things first, I always get more drunk than the birthday girl. Like, who's idea was it to sing karaoke? I killed it.
I think I almost ran over some kid I went to high school with. Guilt factor: moderate to low.
MY BUTT IS BIG ENOUGH FOR AN ANACONDA AND HE DOESNT GET TO ENJOY IT TOUGH SHIT
I texted him "my vagina is pounding for you"
I know, you made me proof read it.
Every time I see this chick she's swimming naked at a pool party. That's gotta mean something right?
Bowls and Harry Potter this morning. I guess work isn't so bad after all
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