ugh, i have officially sinned in all of my cute clothes. i can't even wear any of them without feeling regret.
I found out he doesn't have a facebook, twitter, or myspace. So, I'm going to actually go to his house to spy on him.
let me put this in terms we both understand. he was the crunchwrap supreme of men--the perfect combo of all things manly, gooey and delicious. and ready for instant enjoyment.
My google history shows every combination of "red lobster cheesy biscuits" possible.
he actually managed to pick a girl up by telling her that her skirt was ugly and she didnt do a good job with her makeup. thats some seriously low selfesteem
I'm single as of 11 minutes ago. I was the chick who drunkenly tried to climb into bed with you 2 weeks ago. Wanna make this happen?
You rode him down the last flight of stairs like a human sled.
On that note I give you a 10 for sticking the landing and staying on the whole ride.
Her throat is strong enough to gargle peanut butter. I'm sure you were satisfied.
They shoved things up my nose I feel violated
he busted into the room with single cheese slices and started yelling "THROW SOME CHEESE ON THAT BITCH"
I'm going home because your Crackraptor step-brother tried getting his nasty meat hawks in my pants last night.
I fingered myself to realization that I don't need birth control if there is never a guy.
Hey! I need booze. And penises. And a lot of mistakes that I will regret in the morning.
Don't let me publish my memoir unless "hurt my ankle drunk irish dancing" is at least the title of a chapter because that is really the whole story of my life.
He’s tiny, hairless and humps my leg when he wants sex. He’s basically a chihuahua
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