Yours is on the dinner table...mine is in my underwear drawer.
Proposition. Sex. No words, no talking about it later. I just want you tonight.
thats the last time I fuck a piece of fruit on camera for him.
my phone vibrated itself into my puke bucket and literally sizzled. you'll have to reach me at this number for a while.
I think I just need to sleep with both of them to see which I want to date.
You just went from promiscuous to slut in 3.2 seconds.
Urine might work for jellyfish stings, but we found out it doesn't work well for nose bleeds...
Just drive me around campus, I will be able to smell their innocence.
And then he proceeded to take my heartbeat, because apparently that tells him whether I was faking or not...
pro-tip: weed infused snickerdoodles are far less conspicuous to eat at work than brownies. no one ever suspects the snickerdoodle.
Let me tell you how my drug dealer wants me to take his girlfriends little sister to jr prom
I went through my entire iTunes library and made a playlist called "Feelings". I have 7.5 hours of feelings.
I just got offered money for pictures of my boobs
I accepted the offer
so I think we need to change lawn care services...the guy woke me up by the pool while I was naked...told me he already picked up all the beer cans for us and gave me his number for the next time we party...
It's not even a normal fucking affair I've found myself in. It's a fucking bdsm clusterfuck.
Why did I wake up next to the fire pit? And who wrapped me up like a burrito?
Jägerbombs. Thank Sara.
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