I wanna passion pit in your ass
I always wonder when I meet a guy from online if he needs a moment to mentally register and accept the size of my ass. maybe ill wear a dress.
I am literally too baked to press the call button. How am I supposed to bone him?
all i remember is screaming butter knifes are for pussies.
I don't even want to talk about it, I'm traumatized. Even the dog knew to take advantage of the most intoxicated girl at the party...
His rich uncle has six months to live. I feel pregnant.
So his "youporn" cam totally caught me stealing quesadilla leftovers.
Look, the fact that I didn't kick him out and rip your clothes off speaks very highly of me.
Dude if it is ever said "everybody get inside the police helicopter just showed up.". That means it was a successful party.
Just realized I probably only have one more wedding where I can say I fucked the bride.
YOU'RE CHANGING THE SUBJECT. I CAN BLOW SOMETHING UP OR I CAN TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM, BUT ONE OF THE TWO IS BOUND TO HAPPEN
I took it upon myself to take one shot of tequila to have an excuse for hitting on my not-single coworker. It worked.
I bought Plan B for the first time and an interview outfit today. You could say my life is improving.
We need to step in, this can't continue. The guy she went home with last night looked exactly like Count Olaf, right down to the unibrow.
Which version tho, Jim Carrey or Neil Patrick Harris?
THAT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER, YOU DON'T FUCK COUNT OLAF!!!
Twas still the Saturday before Christmas \nAnd it’s still fucking snowing\nAnd Steve wished he slowed down \nOn all the fucking drinking
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