its 9am. i just got home. spent 6 hours blowing him in a closet last night
and I'm going to name my autobiography "blow jobs with enthusiasm are the best"
I'm naming my autobiography "Reasons Not to Date Girls From Texas."
You were plastered and wouldn't stop telling this hot girl about your plan to graffiti a church in easter colored spray-paint saying that Jesus was a Zombie... she kept saying her father was a pastor...
We played strip Bananagrams and I won. Thank fuck I read a lot as a child.
It's a good cause. For your vagina.
your house isnt even gonna be on google maps after this party
I'm thinking blowjobs and wheelchair sex should be part of any post-injury wellness plan.
I have a cracked rib, no way in hell I'm bottoming for him tonight!
I don't remember... but I heard a cop threatened to pepper spay my dick
who are you talking about my vagina to?!
Let's FaceTime each other while we shotgun beers
I found one of those wine glass confetti bits in my ass crack.
And now I'm taking a break sitting on the bathroom floor thanking god that people who eat at subway are either too classy to piss on the floor, or are still relatively sober enough to not piss on the floor before 5pm.
I woke up naked and alone this morning. What a life
I just put together something from IKEA so that’s mandatory oral for a week.
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