So I went into my gym pretty wasted and asked the trainer guy if i could order a cock meat sandwich. Needless to say, I'm canceling my membership tomorrow.
Just ate cheeseit crumbs off the floor. i feel like Kirstie Alley.
You were plastered and wouldn't stop telling this hot girl about your plan to graffiti a church in easter colored spray-paint saying that Jesus was a Zombie... she kept saying her father was a pastor...
then you put baby powder on the bottom of your feet and walked to your room so "ladies would follow the footprints"
I told her the maid must have stolen all my condoms. She bought it
she's throwing things again.. almost stabbed herself in the eye with a fork.
To say he's a good fuck is like saying the beatles had a bit of success. My vag is still mourning the fact he moved.
I feel eeeverything like there's a rhythm and everything can be felt w/o ever touching it. And it's beautiful. Sunshine or raindrops it's like orgasming. Everything has a taste.
I'm having horrible flashbacks of being groped by Pauly Shore.
he was spitting whole peanuts projectile out of his mouth at the waitresses as they walked by and then yelled across the restaurant that he had "no problem kicking any of their asses"
One day i'll wow you with artfully trimmed pubes.
Holy fuck where did this cat tattoo on my ass come from
I just puke and rallied at my anniversary dinner #winning
I'm a lady who knows what she wants in life, and that's uncommitted dick.
Is texting an old booty call with "can you still get your ankles behind your ears?" an appropriate way to reemerge into the singles scene???
Randomize