"Hung over, tired and having a faint scent of some body butter and random pieces of glitter from a girl named gigi, almost arrested in drug bust, $40 Canadian in my pocket and all i got was this lousy Tshirt" shirts dont exist, but they need to
It was so good the neighbors even had a cigarette.
Apparently I was trying to convince him Springsteen has had buttsex. I ended the argument with "I bet he came from it too."
I thought the cops would know I was on shrooms because I was 10ft tall.
Also I walked home in over mitts \nLet's take a minute to really laugh about that
We need to go back to the barter system so I can sell my body and just be done with it.
He hasn't responded, but he probably just jizzed in his shorts again, so I'll give him time.
My hair is crimped, I am walking with a roadie, and my vibrator is in my purse. I feel sorry for tomorrow.
Why am I getting texts saying are you ready for this butthole? Help
I miss using glorious as an adjective. I'm gonna start doing that again. And I'm gonna try to get cuntatrosphe in there some more, too.
well he never texted me back and the pizza I took my rage out didn't deserve such malice
He sent me nudes and I told him he reminded me of Buffalo Bill.
If so I'm coming over there. There's no way I'm having "hello, how are you" conversations with my neighbors on acid
remember that party we went to sophomore year where we found that girl and had the orgy? Im totally at that house right now.
I woke up in a warehouse with the words “Property of Adam” written on my chest in frosting.
Randomize
