I feel like I've been hit by a train. I woke up this morning covered in wine, free condoms, and a sign language dictionary.
I wanna passion pit in your ass
I heard porn and smelled bacon cooking. I knew you had to be home.
Pretty sure God shed a tear when I put 15 singles in the collection plate.
Oh and I found some acid for the drive back to school, productive day
I have to bobbypin his pubes for us to have sex. The other day he wanted me to braid them.
Being home sucks. I haven't drank in like a week. Or smoked cigs. Or done drugs. Or had sex. My body is shutting down.
Omg. It's like you're one of those deprived kids living in a third world country. We need to save you.
I'm imaging you naked, covered in butter. And I gotta say, I'm not impressed.
I don't have patience to seek someone out and try to decipher whether or not I think I'd want to actually have their dick in my face.
Whiskey dick has taught us to be smart with our time.
I will show up on your front porch in a wet t shirt and some mac and cheese
I'm all dressed in my outfit from last night, and I'm not even the sluttiest person in Walmart right now. God bless Miami.
Let's be honest, I'm cooking chicken nuggets in my Helm jersey and underwear who has their life more together than me?
Explain to me again why I'm doing the walk of shame if we fucked at my house?
help. his tongue is stuck. Its not what you think. Hurry.
Randomize