We should be called the Road Head Warriors
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
Too late. I'm going over there. I'm a bad example for all women: Do as I say, not who I do.
it took you forty minutes to realize it was a gay bar.
She's never going to forget it... Christmas Anal.
Just because you put plan b in my Easter basket doesn't give you an excuse not to wear a condom.
You're about to fuck a guy with a sweatshirt tied around his waist like a mensurating 13 year old. Get your priorities straight, you're graduating tomorrow.
Why do I love Florida? Because I just quit my job because it's too pretty a day to go to work and I'm going to the beach to eat seafood and drink beer.
Omg. I felt like a crazed animal last night. My lesbian instincts burned a hole in my panties.
Carving a pumpkin in a gay bar at 2am. How did my life get to be this way.
He always tells me he misses my clit. I feel like I should make a drinking game out of it
Not yoga, whiskey. Totally mis-typed whiskey.
Our house rule in beer pong, is that if you get the ball in the bitch cup.... you have to snapchat your balls to everyone on your friends list.
the hot lifeguard just pulled a McDonald's cheeseburger out of her fanny pack.
I have 2 phone numbers written on my vagina. I told you I shouldnt be left to my own devices after tequila shots.
Randomize
