i dont remember who you are as you are in my phone as "mr. peanut."
You are the sheppard guiding my vagina away from horrible decisions.
You wrote me a letter and I cannot make out anything you wrote except the last sentence which says "tell the wolf ill meet him at sunset and that I'm sorrry"
Everytime the frat boy touches his bro's ass after making a cup take a drink
I have no idea. There are 6 asians singing hey soul sister to me right now.
if any part of your body has ever entered my vagina you are fucking obligated to speak to me if i so desire
i'm calling it my monica lewinsky shirt now. may it live forever in infamy.
I have a breathe right strip stuck to my forehead, several inexplicable bruises and I think someone tried to paint my nails with glue, but I still have my Santa hat. I'm gonna call this one a success.
Today's weekday brunch started at 2pm, and consisted of $7 of sandwich and $50 of cocktails. Also, I hustled the bartender for about $3 playing nickel poker, but he may have been letting me win. Either way, he didn't get into my pants.
I woke up with Pop Rocks stuck to my ass
We are all yelling at the cat at our apt in nothing but our underwear. How do you think it's going.
Drove by a guy getting road head, midday on O Street. That could be us, but you won't let me in your pants when you drive.
Every FB picture she has looks like it's from the POV of the guy she's blowing
I’m pregaming Christmas shopping with grandma. What’s up?
before i could order beers she was on stage 69ing with a stripper
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