What did we do last night that was yellow?
He can't get past my hymen. At least that's what he said it feels like.
Now he's talking about how he's writing in a journal because he doesn't remember "his thought patterns when he was in elementary and that's distressing". I'm walking home. Fuck this.
Dude its 315 and I'm sitting here eating slices of cheese. Don't talk to me about tomorrow.
It's like a bag of dicks covered in taint sweat pounding a pregnant baby walrus.
I don't have patience to seek someone out and try to decipher whether or not I think I'd want to actually have their dick in my face.
Wors thing about having a cop dad: random drug testing
In my drunk state I was like I ONLY HAD SEX WITH SOMEONE ELSE BECAUSE HE WAS THE HOTTEST GUY IVE EVER EVEN SEEN
Give me an out of order sign and caution tape and we can have sex practically anywhere.
You have more time for sex than anyone I know.
Worse. He's Mormon. At least a gay guy will go get drinks with me.
For 15 minutes straight, he literally did every accent there was, from Russian to Bostonian. The issue: no one could determine whether he was sober, wasted, or anywhere in between
I don't even think NICOLE made a fool of herself last night...
your aware she lit herself on fire, right?
you started putting peanut butter on your pubes.
I miss you and I miss your weed. Come home.
Randomize
