I just went through her cupboards. Eye patch and sword. nowhere near each other. different shelfs.
it was like his penis was on wheels.
Instead of having sex, we spent the entire night making pillow forts and have sword fights. I think I'm in love
why do guys feel they can ask questions when im blowing them? you'd think they'd know my answer will always be "mmhmhmhmmm"
I walked in on him cutting a hole in the condom.
She pulled a cheeseburger out of her purse. I have missed her so much.
I didn't know people actually cried after sex.
They normally just get fucked up and see who can hold their hand on the exhaust the longest. It's great
I tried to show my boob for free volcano tacos at taco bell last night. Not boobs. Just boob. The manager wasn't allowing it.
I just really need to get the matching flask to go with my pill box. Is this another step towards rock bottom?
This essay is so getting done. I am spurred on by thoughts of test-driving your newly shaven face by sitting on it as soon as humanly possible.
I want you to come over here and spit coffee in my mouth like a momma bird feeding a baby bird. That hung over.
PLAN B IS EXPENSIVE ON A $50 A WEEK BUDGET.
I remeber being on the roof last night and we put our heads togeather and we touched each others face and said "Hennessyyyy"
And after we debated politics. My dream come true: naked, just got done having great sex with a hot mixed guy, talking about why social welfare programs are a bad idea
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