FYI... At my funeral, it will be your job to throw yourself dramatically onto my casket.
We all just poured out a sip of our drinks for you. One for our pussy whipped homie.
He started yelling "we're making a baby" mid thrust.. probably not the right guy for me right?
bought some hannah montana deodorant. hope it doesnt make me smell untalented
he just found out the funeral is this morning so i'm wearing last night's clothes and look like a total slut.
You asked me to be the big spoon, when you passed out on the stairs
found scuba porn. totally not sexy. life continues to disappoint.
He made me leave when I challenged "all you bitches" to a game of strip taboo.
Is your answer to that text seriously a right parenthesis
No way. Every time you have sex with him you'll end up staring into those eagle eyes and stop mid-orgasm.
I'm going for high school drunk, you've got 15 minutes to get here.
I forgot I did whipits. Probably because my brain cells were killed from the whipits
You can't say "my boobs are wonderful" and not expect my drunken subconscious to focus on wanting to see them. Btw-can I see them?
That isn't the worst part. It got a bazillion times more awkward when he read me a poem he wrote about his dead cat.
I am getting off work an hour early just to watch you drink. Never let it be said that I don't love you.
Randomize
