There's a walmart bag of my vomit outside my front door. I just really need someone to appreciate that with me.
he is the anna nicole to my 90 year-old billionaire. i'm grateful that he's fucking me, so i'm buying him shit.
He doesn't make grammatical errors. Even while getting head.
No, we have matured. We've stopped having sex in front if his room mate.
You kept telling me how warm your bag of vomit was and asked me if i wanted to feel.
Dude if you're not gonna answer them I'm gonna stop snapchatting you my hook ups
I still owe him the card with all the sperm paper cutouts falling out like glitter saying " sorry you can't hold your load. Better luck next time "
I can't tell if my bong is gender-neutral or not
Not much, just taking another sorting hat quiz while waiting for this porno to finish buffering
If you're going to drink sriracha straight from the bottle whilst crying, at least wear the giant sombrero for the enjoyment of your audience.
being single and having a boyfriend 300 miles away is eerily similar. never skipped a beat eating hot wings in my bed with no pants or masturbating every day.
I've done dumber things than this for flimsier reasons. Come with. If I pull it off I need a witness, and if I fail I need an escape plan.
In the middle of pounding my asshole he stopped and said, "do you want to get breakfast after this?"
If I take a couple more shots I won't even know he's a Mormon that drives a motorcycle
You know you're more responsible when you turn down your bed and make a clear path to it before you go out..
Randomize
