I love him more than I love myself. Which is a lot...Because I'm narcissistic.
just got dressed up for chatroulette- THAT desperate.
I've done unspeakable things to your penis. I have every right to give it a name.
I'm going to write a letter. It's going to say, Dear Every Girl Ever: Take some goddam initiative and wake me up with a blowjob and I will eat out of your hand. Love, Every Guy Ever
All I know is that it's pretty damn mean to put a glass wall in a bar.
This shit I'm taking feels like I've eaten every burrito in the world and chased that with an aquarium of hot sauce.
I woke up in solitary confinement, wheb they moved me the guy that sold me the pill of Molly at the concert was in the police waiting room, we nodded to each other.
I'm having mini little movies in my head. Like for example. You were talking to a blue whale with jazz man sunglasses, but not the ray charles jazz sunglass. More like sunglasses that are round. Anyway, he has a baguette and stupid french hat. And you , you had your harry potter glasses.
If you can count on one hand the number of times you have actually, truly nearly died this month, then you are not really living yet.
Martha Stewart has had a one night stand and is unsure if she's had a threesome. I no longer feel slutty.
so let me get this straight... she's showing a cameltoe that can be seen from the space station and I'm NOT supposed to stare?
Regardless of how one feels after a break up, whiskey must be consumed.
My vagina is very pro this idea
I was just told that I'm the Sherlock Holmes of drunken sex. I'll take it.
that's the second time my extensive knowledge of taylor swift has gotten me laid
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