i dont remember who you are as you are in my phone as "mr. peanut."
Im interpreting your silence as a silent plea for me to come wake you up. See you soon.
i've decided that sluts are like cars. they may look good as hell on the outside, but you never know what kind of shit is hiding under the hood.
Taped crackers to the wall. Sat I'n the dryer. Bobby had to pull me out by my hair. No more.
Dude. That is just waaaay to much random to process after that tequila battle.
Got so drunk in South Padre some guy put me on a suitcase trolly and pushed me to my room. I flashed my boobs as a tip.
I have full custody of my vagina however you are granted visiting hours
We proceeded to buy tattoos from the dollar store and interpretive dance to of monsters and men, it's safe to say he's my new fuck buddy
Best feeling in the world is getting a random boob pic from a drunk chick at 3 am.
My heart says buy the granny panties, but my vagina says don't throw in the towel yet.
I didn't see her "bad karma" tattoo until after I was balls deep
You tell anyone I'm rocking out to Pitbull in an economy, base-model car, I'll kill you.
Don’t say some truly stupid shit like that to me. In a kitchen. Where the knives are kept
His sister gave me the "if you hurt him I will break your neck" talk. I didn't know how to tell her we're not a couple.
On the brightside we know now that empty pringle cans are accepted at mcdonalds as cups.... Screw people who judged us, we saved a buck
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