I ride home in a shopping cart. Don't at like you aren't jealous.
no. you can't hotbox the world.
Skanksgiving break is awesome already... pilgrim and indian roleplay tonight.
No one wears that much makeup to work unless they are trying to fuck their boss, NO ONE
He sent a pic, I sent one back. Then nothing. It's like we sext-messaged goodbye and ended the relationship.
Yup, totally tried cooking bacon in the dryer last night.
That last minute feeling of hesitation on whether I should bring my health card to the bar usually means I'm in for a good night.
PLEASE. I won't throw up on the floor this time. Or fuck in the bathroom. Or dance on the pool table. So PLEASE.
I probably won't go. Last time I got drunk with those guys I just started demanding people let me touch their beards.Then I mocked everyone who didn't have facial hair.
We both know we're cheating on one another. But our side pieces aren't as kinky as us...so yeah, we're still together. This is a fucked up relationship.
That shit was hard as fuck. It felt like a mountain entering my vagina.
I still hate everything and everyone around me. Krampus taught me nothing.
But on the bright side the arresting officer was just as hot as I remember and I took a pretty okay mugshot.
We found him. He just came running out of the closet with a bruise on his face saying he has been fighting elves in Narnia for a year.
I can see. My condolences to your vagina.
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