I don't want to talk about it. He was like the Little Engine that couldn't get me off.
i just realized that the oil change sticker on my windshield is a day before the last time i had sex. I've driven exactly 10500 miles since.
you need to get laid.. and an oil change.
about to tell this girl that sh'es my teenage dream. you have 15.358s to stop me.
he confused my yawn for an orgasm
we woke up to him feeding us cheetos at 3am. and by feeding i mean shoving them in our mouths and saying "i mean who doesn't like cheetos"
I ate goldfish off your shoulder, I think we had bigger issues
I think I need to donate blood to see if I have Hepatitis. Again.
We just laid there in bed together, petting his dick and repeating, "IT FEELS LIKE VELVET!!!"
Apparently getting dressed is an all-day activity.
Drunk texting is the poetry of my life
So I woke up with a terribly bandaged finger an then discovered a pot of bloody onions on the stove.....who the fuck decided it was a good idea for me to try and cook
FUCK IM ABOUT TO GET A DICK PIC IN THE LIBRARY
Nothing says "I'm sorry for shitting in your bed" like an Olive Garden gift card
I literally have a pirate chest of slutty clothing.
Put down the Captain Crunch and get over here. It’s a dickfest!!
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