She is in my trunk
Nevermine. I'm just going to tell you on Myspace with a glitter graphic.
WHOA. WHOA. WTF. WHOA. TOO HIGH FOR HIM TO BE ENGAGED RIGHT NOW.
I totally cried the whole time and then screamed out my new therapists name....
I'm very fluent in vodka, but that seems to be a whiskey dialect.
His IQ level must rival that of a comatosed aardvark.
I fell into his fridge. I want to leave.
Curdled. you forgot that word. It was a curdled buttery nipple shot.
Nothing like the soothing screaming of your neighbor getting boned while eating a pizza on the front porch.
So now I can cross "have my ass be someone's phone background" off the bucket list. You know, if it was something I actually had wanted to happen.
Idk man, we spent like 20 mins arguing about the moral ambiguity of fucking in someone else's car
You can't talk like Dr. Evil to me five minutes after the greatest orgasm of my life.
Never doubt me. I am drunk and unstoppable and I will finish this book
I'm not a morning person, and, trust me, no matter how good your cock may be, it will not turn me into one.
He’s like an awkward walking penis that has a personality attached
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