I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
you know whats weird about having a girlfriend....I look forward to masturbating now....sort of like quality me time.
At first I was confused when I woke up with shards of glass and pickle brine in my pants. But then I remembered I hung out with you last night.
Just had a nice conversation with my landlord while cleaning your puke off my car
my mom just asked if she should wash your furry handcuffs with the lights or darks
Even my vagina gasped.
Next year we will be 30 and no more shots during the week.
I refuse to have sex with you and your eBay condoms.
well, obviously he didn't fuck me for my strong moral fiber.
Just the amount of girls he locked himself in my room woth says your gonna have to take a cab bro. I don't think he's going anywhere
Bjs and tacos. That's my life.
I wish you could see all the crumbs in my bra....it looks like Hansel & Gretel got lost in my cleavage.
I think he has some internal "man stuff" that keeps getting in the way.
Like alcoholism and general douchbagary.
Would you be so kind as to inform your husband that my truck is forever cursed by mashed potatoes and it's his fault.
The only thing I want for my birthday is a divorce from you.
Randomize
