Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
over or under 1pm before my bracket is too blurry to read?
he's werid. hell kiss me after i go down on him but he wont kiss me after i eat anything with mustard.
I remember now some guy came over and hit on me and poured peppermint schnapps and chocolate syrup in my mouth. Pretty sure he was dressed like Santa....
I feel like this is the moment of high where you have to write these texts down to remember to text them and feel that somehow this is important to the continuity of the world.
I'm using the house around the corner that my parents rent out to people as a means of getting sex. I just tell them I'm going for a walk and just invite my next hook up over
i want to have his babies. i NEED to. shit i wont even ask for child support, he's that goodlooking.
I want to preface this by saying nothing happened, nothing is on fire. It is mere speculation. Do we have a fire extinguisher?
Don't worry, I'm sure your thrusting skills are on point.
How about this: I support you through your miserable marriage, and you support me through all my anonymous sex?
I am googling "notable people who had syphilis"
I'm running late...how do you explain period shits to your boss?
So we'll go out later for condoms and cake batter... aka grocery shopping for champions.
I have to start drinking water I have a drug test to fail at 1:40
The streets are paved with hand jobs
Randomize
