All I know is it had something to do with a plunger and tuna salad. I'm done. I'm quitting my job.
look mate, i'm pretty sure 14 texts saying "fuck me. fuck me now" more than passes the legal benchmark for consent.
dude. we need more in our fridge then just beer and applesauce.
I just told him that with every paper, I'd take a picture of myself with one less piece of clothing. Who say's I can't be a tutor?
your vagina must have magic restorative powers I feel rested and powerful this morning.
I had lunch with him today and quietly mourned his wasted good looks on such a disappointing set of genitals.
We had half a pitcher of beer left and he asked us if we wanted a to-go cup. Fuck yeah we want it to-go.
I no longer exist. I have transformed into a puddle of sex.
well if they don't get here soon...no fuck it, I'm going to the strip club.
Turns out the bartender I fucked is the bar owner. WHY THE FUCK DO I PAY FOR HALF MY DRINKS? IS SEX NOT TIP ENOUGH?
Having to crawl on my hands and knees because I woke up with a mysterious broken foot this morning...
I shall relish in being the most basic of bitches
Ok maybe second best. He dated a stripper. Can't compete with that level of hoeness
"Fwd: Nice to meet you last night thanks for the tit flash" no recollec. i am officially banned from wearing tube tops to the bar.
you never know when your going to find a surprise from me in your bed...it keeps you on your toes.
Randomize
