I don't know where I am, but its a Goosebumps novel waiting to happen.
one should ask oneself what kind of lifestyle one is leading when one finds a handprint of semen on their pillow the next day.
I showed remarkable dignity in such a compromising situation. Except I came off as sort of a blue ball giver.
When she was dating that guy she told me If they broke up, I would receive a call and no matter what I was doing I'd have to go over a fuck her. It's like being an EMT for sex.
there was a kid getting taken out of the waterpark handcuffed to a wheelchair singing "tryna catch me ridin dirty"
My arms are hairy. And so Is my left leg. Just my left leg, the right is smooth.
His parents know me as "the white shoed screamer"
If I could drive and get you Starbucks I would... But that's probably not a good idea. On account of the drugs.
I am in the bathroom at work, pooing while eating pretzels. Hungover Fridays are in full effect
Is it bad that when someone says the phrase "helicopter dick" I immediately think of you?
Great news. Our sex broke my otter box
I hate ovaries. They're horrible little sacs of satanic enmity.
That's the most poetic description of female anatomy I've ever heard.
I don't want to go back to the suburbs. Being drunk in public isn't ok and theres too many children. Don't make me.
idk i just feel really unsatisfied. like something's missing from my life... maybe it's chicken nuggets...
That was before I lit my hair on fire
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