Let's make love on the newspapers that declare financial doomsday
Took it a bit far last night. While leaving his house, I sent myself a text that said, 'you're still pretty"
you read me verses from the beginners bible until my answering machine finally ran out of time and cut you off.
I figured that I'd start organizing the places ive given head. I'll add treehouse right after bandroom
I'm a lady, I can't pee on the ceiling. Even I don't have that power.
We are going all out this weekend. My liver is already smiling.
Find me a date. With a beard. I want him to rub his beard on my tits. I'm not even into that stuff but I think it'd be so warm.
Last time I sleep with a guy with a penchant to fragrance his dick. Every time I sit to pee, I get a whiff of Axe body spray.
The thing is that despite the high paying career and the increased responsibility, my life hasn't changed that much. Only instead of blacking out on $2 wells at some dive I blackout on top shelf martinis in a suit. Oh and only on Fri & Sat nights. Being 30 doesn't suck as bad as everyone led me to believe.
Just saw a hooker eating a pastrami sandwich walking down beach blvd blowing kisses to traffic. My day = made
This costume is too restrictive. The priest and I cannot get it on while I am wearing it.
apparently, dueling with garden tools in Home Depot is strictly frowned upon
So when's a good time this week to show up at your apartment in nothing but a trench coat and a bow? Y'know. Hypothetically.
I was supremely disappointed in the lack of dick and doughnuts in my life last week.
Yeah I know my dick is weird, but I've surprisingly had a lot of fun with it.
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