Of course she's mad at you. You Kanye Wested a picture of her catching snowflakes in her mouth. "imma let you finish but..." was the shaft and you put two of Kanye West's heads for the balls.
bitch got booty called while we were making out. and then she actually left.
Nothing like buying a handle and a 36 pack with a baby strapped on.
His cuteness will no longer contol my vagina
you kept saying "i will not *breathe* regret this *breathe* in the morning *breathe* i just gotta remember *breathe* to BREATHE"
I rolled joints beforehand. Lit a candle. Ghetto rigged taping the 40's on my hands and then lit the joint using the flame of the candle.
I'm so proud of your modern ingenuity
Did you know that taking off a bra with teeth burns ninty calories?
When I die, I want you to spread my ashes at a Cracker Barrel.
Now that I'm sober, I'm realizing you put your name in my phone as "wowww"
Not even official and he's cleaned my puke twice. His hotdog skills are an added bonus. I've got a keeper
... drunk me broke the coffee table?
STOP TALKING ABOUT YOURSELF IN THE THIRD PERSON. YOU DID THE THING.
My only contacts are booty calls or the club hockey team.
He's far too busy staring into my soul to touch my tits.
I found a hot kiwi last time and sucked his dick. That's what rooftop bars are made for.
It's not even a normal fucking affair I've found myself in. It's a fucking bdsm clusterfuck.
Randomize
