Grab the Coors Light. Its time to get NASCAR drunk
There is no excuse for watching a Jesse McCartney movie.
If we were unicorns we would fly together. Like in a pack. A pack of flying unicorns.
Stumbled into class and into a desk. When I fell my bottle broke in my backpack. I had to leave there was vodka everywhere.
As i looked at his penis, it stared back into my soul. No more drinking games.
It was that same situation where "cuddling on the floor" was actually just code for "rough shameful hate sex" hahaha.
All I know is I was dancing to Shakira in his alley and I think rubbing my junk on his car door.
Tomorrow may or may not be a problem cause i'll be wonder woman for a halloween party aka i'll be fucked up & try & jump off of shit thinking i can fly
Can we be in one of those super weird relationships where you carry me around everywhere?
I need to stop getting drunk and telling people it isn't "about them."
Why do guys insist on chatting me up this early in the morning? I'm just like "Dude, I look like the bastard child of Einstein and a troll doll. Let me eat my Hot Pocket in peace."
I have a tab of a google image search of onion rings open and it is making me so happy.
There's no such thing as shame in your world, is there?
Would you consider masturbating to Hocus Pocus an adulthood high or low?
I'm reading 50 shades of grey and masturbating while he's doing insulation downstairs. Maybe I can get him to bring me a sandwich
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