i'm waiting for the less fat version of him to text me
Come downstairs. Moms serving wine for breakfast again.
I woke up under a table, with a huge Mexican sombrero, a box of 120 doughnuts and a bloody nose. It all screams success.
he also begged me to fake an orgasm when he couldn't get me to come.
That dick who always called me a slut in high school showed up at the clinic with boner problems. Then I was assigned as his nurse. Who's laughing now. I AM.
How do you say "get out of my apartment" in Spanish. No time to explain, just tell me.
Come over, we're having a tea party. And by a tea party I mean we're drinking whiskey from tea cups.
You kept trying to use my cat as a napkin.
I know. It's cray. Crayon. Crayolaaaaa.
I opened the door and his girlfriend was standing there; we made silent, prolonged eye contact as I quietly put on my panties and left.
You are the epitome of what awesome would taste like.
Thank god I work in a lab. This pinkeye is out of control and my safety glasses are the only thing stopping me from digging at my eye with a pen
Remember how we use to say "this will be the year I'll get my shit together!" And like we stopped doing that because we know that isn't happening anytime soon.
Like I wasn't going to make out with the hot Australian sitting next to me at the Portland blazer game?
I know I may be showing my age by saying this but this is the first time I have been eaten out in the parking lot behind the Clairmont Inn since 1990
Randomize