I cant. I'm trying to smell my vagina.
Intervention is following me on twitter.
wow.
She asked me how I live with myself. I told her one night at a time.
we were on a sandy mattress. i was wearing a sweatshirt with a poodle on it and eating a whopper jr. i wouldn't have fucked me either.
he walked out as i was licking snow off of his car...
Nobody has ever asked me for my honest opinion on whether they needed anal bleaching before
I'm going to have to take an awkward trip to the front desk to ask them if they found a pair of turquoise shorts and an "I'm the Mom" sweatshirt.
He's freaking out just because my cat licked his balls while he was fucking me
His voice is like having sex with hot chocolate and then suddenly you're pregnant.
Who knew you could get a drunk in public when jogging with your dog?
Times have changed. Freshman year I could throw my shirt in a bonfire and still get laid. Now when I puke in my girlfriend's bed on her birthday I'm "an asshole"
Yeah, I mean I'll probably fuck him regardless but I'm trying to be a lady about it.
Mike's not allowed to drink vodka anymore. He couldn't get his temporary tattoos (stickers) to stick so he super glued them on.
I'm laying backwards. On the stairs. Eating carrots. And drinking from a captain Morgan bottle.
If you think me talking about that hot guy accepting my LinkedIn request is pornographic, I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel when I tell you I fucked a stranger on a park bench last weekend
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