So for a second i just thought clitoris was a disease.
The working title of my paper? "Tailgating: A Big Clusterfuck of Kids Who Dont Actually Give a Shit about Football"
It can't be good... The last recollection I have is singing lullabys to his penis
He's had mdma poured down his throat. He's getting huggy.
I was expecting a blowjob when she shoved me in the bathroom but instead she shaved my pubes into a mustache for my penis. I am still satisfied.
Since he's sober and out of jail, he acts like we are the worst people on Earth. Fuck him, the only acceptable time in life to do coke is the early twenties. He won't take that from us.
We did it in the bathroom in Taco Bell. We didn't buy anything before we left, which I thought was rude.
Ok, I have three hours. I'm trying to work out two blow jobs and a taco.
I slept with someone shorter than me. My vagina weeps.
You fool.
If your boss lets you sleep on his couch, you don't pay him back by boning his daughter.
Jesus, I think this onesie was designed to keep me from masturbating.
Apparently I'm a "fire hazard"
Were you seriously humming twinkle twinkle little star while cupping my balls?
I just borrowed porn from my middle aged mother. This is what desperate looks like.
Of fucking course I get my period on Valentine's Day...
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