Just had to open a tuna can with a spoon. Gave me a sense of hunting for my own food.
sorry I didn't call you. I had your number saved as "girl that offered bj but didn't follow thru".
I made a google map for "places I got blow jobs"
The house is trashed, there is porn scattered everywhere like an easter egg hunt and the blow up doll is sleeping on the couch downstairs. someone covered her up.
We are not buying weed off a guy from the internet.
I'm sorry I tried putting my balls in your cup holder.
We had sex under a tree in his boss's backyard, then I hooked up with his best friend. I don't even care how I got home.
UPDATE: lighting the grill with Bacardi. Haven't slept. Forgot the hamburger buns. Almost out of our eighth handle.
Please save me from this creative non fiction class. I just wrote a paper about how I spend unhealthy amounts of time with my cat.
I spend unhealthy amounts of time watching RuPaul's Drag Race.
I referred to the cat as amicable.
Have bite marks on my arm where my temporary tat was Saturday night. Did someone try to bite Captain America or something?
One of the many mysteries surrounding the weekend...
I've just been thinking about sangria a lot lately, like an adult.
I just want to braid flowers into his hair and steal all of his pills.
I found her outside drinking steak sauce out of the bottle.
Is it uncouth to masturbate the night before a gyno appointment?
wheres my face? and why is my pocket so big?
Randomize