this is amzing! feels like my body is having sex with its surroundings!
we turned studying into a drinking game, she drinks when she gets it right, i drink when she gets it wrong. so we'll be out soon
I feel like if I were on Intervention, I would have to be a season finale.
New term. "Find a husband" fridays. It's like thirsty thursdays, but with a dowry.
Whiskey shot with bacon bits, our version of Goldschlager WE ARE TRYIN IT.
bah. we'll see. don't give yourself a boner of false hope.
I know it basically makes me the worst feminist ever, but I don't want to kill my own spiders. And I will pay my personal spider hit man with sammiches and unlimited , uninhibited access to my vagina.
HIS BALLS ARE HEAVEN SENT FROM THE VELVET ANGLES.
I ran into his family and they made me a ham sandwich and I asked if they wanted to come streaking. I felt they deserved the invite.
Getting drunk at 9 am is not a super power.
He suck his junk in my HALF BAKED. Ben & Jerry would totally disapprove. This is worse than sticky dick donut day.
I'm sitting at my kitchen table alone dressed as a dinosaur smoking bowls in the dark. Is this rock bottom? Or is this living the dream? Who's to say
Do you think if I had a tempurpedic bed he would still be able to feel me fingering myself after we have sex?
I guess I asked for the two old strippers numbers at the end of the bar and it turned out to be the bartenders mom and aunt...
Are you telling me right now that the weed man sexted you?
THE WEED MAN SEXTED ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Randomize
