It's mornings like this that make me happy to have a clean pair of underwear in my purse.
Tis a story best told in person, it involves a golf course, police and vomit
It usually does with you
I pretty much envision me eating a turkey leg whilst fucking you. I have priorities.
Her name means "flower that enlarges and gives birth." There is no way she isn't getting knocked up
the bruise you left on my ass looks like africa. the other just looks like a hand.
The sad thing was my husband told her its ok to make out with me. Bar Tuesdays will live on regardless.
We are magical, pot smoking, smart as hell, single as fuck, woodland dolphins.
Holy shit he's circumcised. His parents must have really loved him.
Every time I someone I meet again from that wedding it turns into the "Oh your the guy who puked in the hallway and passed out in front of the elevator."
I shouldn't be that hard, but i cant exactly put "a guy to tie me up and fuck me and then brush my hair" in my dating profile
I cant go through life without knowing what ginger pubes actually look like
Not sure when or why this happened but I just stopped giving a shit about everything
i had a flashback to you roaring like a dying tiger and then throwing your wallet (maybe?) at the cat in the living room and saying "you're the only adult that lives here take all my money"
You just kept yelling "you ain't got no pancake mix." to the tv screen
there's still a lot i don't remember, like why my iphone's nailed to your wall
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