Everything went well, until I walked into his bedroom and there was a Ronald Reagan poster watching over his bed - creepy
words of advice: black light parties reveal cum stained clothing.
It's like there testing me. My dad kept handing me margaritas and saying "you can take it"
I should start riding the bus again so I can drink all day
he kept yelling THIS ISNT AMATEUR HOUR
Had no idea what his name was when I woke up. Went through his desk, found his tax records. Ben. And loaded.
I feel like god wrote up a contract of my life, and i just signed off on that shit without reading the fine print.
But he buys me breakfast and goes down on me THATS HARD TO FIND
I also found a beer label in my bra and I'm pretty sure you put it there and said "this means I trust you"
He got up when I started trying to balance my wine glass on his head.
I dunno what's worse, the fact that I hooked up with a guy that shaves his armpits or that I didn't notice until he brought it up the next day
All is fair in love and war and toga parties
So your contact has been changed to "jizz weave" in my phone. Now, as strange and random as that may be, I'm slightly embarrassed to say that I have more than one contact that fits that description so please identify yourself.
Guess who just bought an ounce of pot via Paypal, and paid for it with my airline Visa card to earn miles?
Congratulations. That business degree is finally worth every penny it cost you.
I WANT BLOOD. HERS. I WILL DYE A FABULOUS PAIR OF SUEDE PUMPS RED WITH HER BLOOD.
Randomize
