He ate me out. It was like watching him trying to win a pie eating contest
you just stared at your feet and said some shit about the molecules dancing and how you had just solved physics.
she called me a fuckfaceshitdick. not that's creative. it sounds like a crayola crayon, preferrably an orange-brown shade.
The only thing that makes me want to stop the affair is that I am the Monica Lewinksy in this triangle.
I could see myself reflected in his wedding band as i was going down on him.
It's like the bermuda triangle of cat puke
I dont know. Theres no way you can be ready for the sex hurricane that will consume you.
Ok, it's starting to sound like someone's out there trying to learn to play the trombone while breaking kitchenware.
Hungover. Have to fix everything I've broken. I'm gonna be very late.
I think Facebook knows you fucked me. All of a sudden I get everything you do in my news feed.
Took three klonopin and turned all my jeans into jorts. I miss you
apparently I stole your wolf lighter. probably bc you made me howl while you puked over your deck railing.
Oh goddamn. That a super downer Tuesday reality right there. Just hit me with the cold, hard, nasty facts.
Random boy motorboated me, handed me a business card congratulating me on my motorboat, winked and walked out with some other girl
Find him and marry him.
We got cut off at the bar, but it's okay because I tactically rolled behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. Meet me in the back booth when you're done puking in the bathroom. This is about to get real slutty.
Randomize
