I am like the Mr. Miyagi of queefs.
I fell off the front porch last night. Actually.. I dove. I dove off the front porch.
The guy in the library beside me just whipped out an entire loaf of bread, a knife and a container of peanut butter and is proceeding to make multiple sandwiches.
You're going to have to tell him your name isn't Ivor McTruckson eventually.
He was more tolerable with alcohol in my system. I woke up to him squeezing me and telling me how he wanted to dip me in strawberry jam.
My Internet history has 23 searches for 24 hour cake. Self respect plummeting.
Also I've been at work for an hour and I've already been "honey"d "babe"d and "beautiful"d by three separate men. Apparently hungover with yesterdays make up looks good on me.
I sent him a tit pic with the caption, "Mt. Arie and Mt. Hola are ready for expedition." Too nerdy?
I have a to do list for the summer and thing one is figuring out my sexual orientation
I'm kinda glad you won't be in Vegas tomorrow because you'd make us go streaking or throw dead animals at them.
My lash glue is stronger than my sense of self respect
YOU ARE STRONGER THAN YOUR VAGINA
some guy had a sword and everyones crying..it turned bad..fast.
Fursuit judi Dench just stared directly at me for 3 solid minutes telling me that cats arent dogs and i believe her because if i dont cat jason derulo might try to have sex with me
Santi's no longer allowed to buy booze in my lane. Last thing I need is a midlife crisis looking at his Id again.
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