There are the 2 BIGGEST tools by me-- at our table. I hate them. But they're not ugly and I may make out with them later. And hate myself. Definitely hate myself.
you sang the finger bang song from south park while fingering me. needless to say, kind of a turn off.
well i had to explain to their mom why the kids i babysit for won't stop repeating the phrase "nice juicy guido"
i woke up to the sound of my dad getting blown. this is my life
I just found your spare underwear and the half eaten granola bar you left in my purse.
Doctorate. Vaginahole. Cinnamon. Rainbow. Fill in the blanks in the morning.
isnt this the same guy you hooked up with on his birthday and he then asked, "you were at me birthday?" the next time you were together?
I will forever be haunted by the image of you hurrying to finish your Jimmy Johns sandwich in the Taco Bell drive thru so you could proceed to order $17 dollars worth of shitty Mexican food.
They turned motor-boating me into some kind of sick game
I hear the sound of that stray bird you rescued from the kitchen but am too busy drunkenly masturbating to feed it
I feel like the fact that I slept with someone who dresses up like Batman a few times will never be lived down.
Depending on which video of him streaking you watch, you can see me passed out in the front row.
Is this like a preordered booty call?
this is a save-me-from-tijuana-tequila-and-hoookers booty call. if i don't hear from you by 8pm i'm grabbing my passport
if i'm not back tomorrow call the embassy
Thank you, BTW, for defiling my bed. Glad it was done well.
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