I feel like a bad episode of csi trying to figure everyone's DNA that's in me
my family just sang happy birthday to baby jesus. no ones even drunk yet
too bad being hungover isnt a job. just threw up from 9am to 5pm
she told me that she was curious about how cum tasted. of course i left you.
A cab driver remembered me by name, address, and ex fuck buddys nick name from a year ago. I mustve been one memorable shit show.
i dont think duct tape can fix my g spot
lets call myth busters
so, what part of "he's slept with a guy" do you not understand?
And I can taste the vodka through my ears. Good god.
I should not be in class today. For the professors sake.
good news: I made it out of bed and into shower. Bad news: I made it back to bed without clothes. Worse news: I don't know this bed.
First of all, I don't like eggnog. Second of all too much rum is all bad. And thirdly I'm not there to sit in your lap and pretend you are Santa and I've been a bad girl.
Regardless of age or alcohol consumption, the knowledge that my dad spanks my mom sexually has the very real potential to fuck my shit up.
Dude my pants were only on for 20 minutes after she got there.
That's 30 minutes too many.
Clothes make me feel like a responsible adult and that's just not something I'm ready to handle.
i feel like doing his laundry was not included in the job description when we became fuck buddies.
Randomize