she told me her fantasy was her as a 55 year old cook at a truck stop who smokes a pack a day, and I was the 21 year old illegal immigarnt prep cook.
I just realized last night I drunk-bought a flight to Florida for this weekend...kinda torn between the price and the potential of awesomeness
she's telling me all about the love triangles of her sims. you tell me how it's going.
His threats seemed pretty legit for a 6 year old
FYI, when you wake up, please note that I puked in your shoes because I sstubbed my tooee, not becus I was drunk.
He burnt a smiley face into the screen with a cigarette, peed in my tub and then tried to take off his pants. tried...
No, the weekend was great. It was the waking up in the pond in the raft without an oar that sucked. That fucking water is cold at 7am.
They conduct scientific research memoirs about what sort of shit happened last night after I ate those cookies.
Me too. We could do it like prostitutes. No kissing on the mouth.
We woke up at 7:30am. We got a 30 rack, yelled at all the freshman shackers walkin back to their dorms, played a game of beer die, and boned all before 11:00am. I found my soulmate
You told the cop you where the star of the Track team and tried to run away. So yeah, i'm not surprised.
I told her my cab was outside the club and that I had to go, but I think we both knew this wasn't going anywhere past the sloppy bathroom handjob.
Something about finishing sexting a guy and him going "well. I have to get ready for Passover now" really makes me rethink my life choices
Have you ever looked at someone and thought…oh honey, you're too pretty for an ankle monitor
I might have to quit marching band. It's affecting my drinking schedule
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