just tell him he has love handles, he'll die of insecurity
I feel great
I just peed on a car
Definitely locked eyes with the stripper who gave me a lapdance last night as she walked by me and into the Ann Taylor Loft in Times Square.
If they ask for a stool sample we r no longer friends.
she's googling pictures of Freddy Mercury and whispering 'I'm ready'
his mom found me in the closet hiding and the only thing i could think of was to sit there and wave.
She insisted on fucking on the futon mattress on the floor, answered the phone call from her boyfriend who was on his way to pick her up, and then had the audacity to ask if I was clean
I feel like a blind man at a water park. Every step has the potential to be either fatal or lead to accidental, but totally enjoyable, sex.
it was a frathouse cornucopia of foul mixed drinks and "sangria", which im convinced was blood and pcp
I refrained from asking a guy what he spilled on his dick because it smelled good. Morals.
It's called being normal.
As I'm trying to leave her house she shushes me and puts my hand on her boob, then goes back to sleep. In like 30seconds. What the fuck.
The porch is breathing.
STAY OUT OF MY SHROOMS YOU CUNT
with the way the semester is going, being a stripper is starting to sound better and better everyday
My room looks so cute. Who wouldn't want to hook up with me in here?
I told him that he could either pay the 10 dollars for the box of condoms or I'll make him pay for the diapers.
Randomize
