By the way the fattest man alive got married yesterday and I don't even have a boyfriend.
my last 3 google searches were anal itchy vagina and ice cubes
I woke up and found 10 txts from him. All sent at 6:30 am, and all about the muffin man.
The trip involved octopus tentacles coming from the little holes in my TV's speakers. The beauty of the nonexistant symbolism had me in tears.
He came on my face. Threw a towel at me. Stole my weed. And left. I thought this would be over after we graduated?
He shit in a sock dude, you can't come back from that
I don't think I even want to know why you are sending my husband pictures of your nutsack.
She pulled me up to my feet by my hair. I thought it was you for a second. My drunken angel savior.
This girl invited us back on the promise of weed and strudel...she delivered neither.
It feels like the devil is humping my brain with his razor sharp erection.
I say I'm working from home on conference call days, but really I just mute the phone, put that shit on speaker so I can hear what's going on, and let Marcus fuck my brains out.
Your penis is the destroyer of worlds.
I love how when he said ecstasy pills both of our heads whipped around like a couple of horned owls.
And here I am, playing fetch with my cat at two in the morning.
I have had my dick inside of entirely too many people at this wedding in order for me to be the groom. Please give me a swift kick in the dick to wake me up from this nightmare
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