she lunged for my junk like it was the cure for swine flu
so let's talk penis.
its impossible for me to find something that fits my tits my muffin top and my ass all at the same time
she wouldn't stop crying, so we sang her to sleep. i'm guessing you will find her in the same position by the toilet in the morning. night.
it was like watching bambi learning to walk, if bambi was 22 and a high functioning alcoholic.
What can I say, your life is charmed. I'm on the couch trying to decide whether or not to puke again.
they call him the transporter because he'll be your designated driver in exchange for sufficient weed or sex.\n
what about money
no - he has a code he lives by
I know everybody has skeletons in their closet but why are all of mine so slutty?
Looks like I've become the Walter White of my PhD cohort.
In my defense, who let the drunk girl run around with a sack of broken glass unsupervise?
I was a plus one at an intervention for a person I didn't know.
The last person that asked me out got pushed down an escalator
Speaking of lightening speed, he ate me out while I was watching The Flash. If that's not winning at life idk what is
my roommate had drunk sex above me in our bunk bed and then built me a fort to apologize the next day
I just mixed tangerine juice with sauv blanc. on an unrelated note, my episide of intervention is slated to run in April.
Randomize
