Dude sorry i couldnt seem to spell any words right in the texts i sent you last night
I felt like a fucking code breaker.
just got drunk at a party with Christmas themed solo cups.. holidays are officially here.
And by the way, how is me getting head even remotely comparable to you fucking 3 guys?
its a saturday night. im home alone watching legally blonde, eating week old birthday cake and drinking milk out of the carton. so yeah im doing real well
theyre doing DJ Khaled impressions again...
Dude if our hands were ladels we could work at a soup kitchen
That would be so convenient
come over after work tomorrow, liz and i will make all of your wildest dreams come true. so long as your wildest dreams involve drinking champagne at my house with two girls who won't have sex with you.
He stopped in the middle of us having sex and asked "is today Monday?" then went even faster
Solid teamwork gives us a good shout of both bringing home trophy cougs
I went on my dinner date pretending that my lunch date didn't jizz in my hair.
Every bar we ever go to has a woman there who hates him. Getting so much vagina has never seemed so not glorious
I just need a text that says "put that food down bitch" and then maybe I'll lose water weight through tears
Nothing screams fatass like a pizza that doesn't fit in your car
hotboxing with the ex-bf's two most recent hookups. they just realized they're eskimo sisters with his best friend. this is what happens when I come home for Christmas.
I'm not sure if I should pay him or he should pay me, but someone should get paid for the sex I had this morning.
Randomize
