My t9 writes chubies instead of bitches.
either way. win, win.
The only way I made it through work was reminding myself how many margaritas per hour I was making
if you had such a terrible roommate you would understand. jacking off in his conditioner is just the start.
The only thing I remember is doing a toddlers and tiaras dance routine onstage. I fucking CURTSIED.
OMG stop. Pretty feet? Sparkle baby!
more embarrassing than that time i showed up to class in my hoodie and leggings because i over slept, and then as i zipped my hoodie down i realized i didn't sleep with a bra on or a shirt
I draw, I play three woodwind instruments, I press buttons for eight hours at work and Im studying to be a gynecologist... I guarantee I can make you squirt, babe.
You know what's awkward? Being with your girlfriend and seeing her ex-boyfriend that she left for you while you've got a Ron Burgundy level awkward boner.
See? I told you no boy in roller skates could be entirely straight.
my biography would be titled "haunting truths and dick jokes: a tale of love, loss, and masturbation."
Don't send me nudes asking me to come fuck you on lunch break then send me a video of kids you're babysitting.
I've decided to become a librarian so I can drunkenly quote The Mummy and have it be legit.
And for today's main disappontment. I thought I saw a midget with fireworks get on the buss, alas it's a child with cleaning supplies
I didn't think you wanted your identity stolen along with your dignity. My mistake.
What happened last night?
Lets just say you asked me a couple times if you had eyeballs..
I can't go to Fassler and not immediately think about you licking a guys wife's butthole in the family restroom
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