Every now and then I'll talk to a creeper for an extended amount of time. Randy, for instance, funded our entire night of horrible decisions.
I have the Lakers game on, but all I can think about is having sex with you. Not sure what you've done here.
I told them I was gay and asked them to pass the pie. I ruined pumpkin pie for grandpa.
... there are chew marks on my license. I have no idea.
I don't care how hot he got, I can't get past the PTSD flashbacks of the first time he fingered me
I would totes be making out with random people in the name of america if I was at the white house right now
i shit in a pringles can and hid it somewhere in your house....happy hunting
And on the seventh day, God carefully sculpted your cock to fit perfectly into my masterpiece of a vagina. Then he rested. Look it up.
Bathroom attendant appreciated that hug I have him as a tip. Fucking BROKE these days.
His penis contains the glue that keeps this relationship together.
He was literally going down on me and giving me a foot rub AT THE SAME TIME. What more can I ask for?
At least I'm fat on the outside. You can NEVER change being fat on the inside.
I love that they love me even though I might not exsist, its kinda like Im God.
Do you think it's a bad sign of the outcome of the pregnancy test I'm about to take that I was eating a fudgsicle on the way into the drugstore? Would it make worse to tell you I also bought a big ass bag of Cornnuts?
Can we throw a "death to my 20s" party when I turn 30?
Sure. Funeral attire and hard liquor
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