So I'm cool with the whole break up, but it sure is a shame we didn't get to use those handcuffs.
I was so high I couldn't tell if they were goosebumps or herpes.
I made friends with a raccoon. I pet it. Like I was Pocahontas.
not to mention it took an hour of antique roadshow to calm my dick down
it's my sixth sense. If there's an orgy within 20 miles of me i'll know about if. Or be a part of it.
It's been two weeks and I still have carpet burns on my knees. Well done.
The last good decent convo we has was when I was trying to convince you to let me watch you pee.
I was throwing up in the shower. He was throwing up on me. It was a cute couple moment for us.
I feel that the drunker I get, the drunker Facebook gets.
Bitch, it's 2 in the afternoon.
Perfect. And my grandma just called me and talked to me for eighteen minutes telling me that she was worried because of my Halloween costume that I'm not a Christian and that I'm not eating. Wtf.
Nothing ends a night of heavy drinking better than banging to three six mafia in your own driveway
But he has cupcakes AND I'm guaranteed an orgasm. .. I feel like I shouldn't even have to actually make a decision here.
I told him to send me a dick snap for my birthday. To personalize it, he drew a candle coming out of the tip of it so I could blow it out.
How's everyone else's ass tattoo today?
Even in drag you're still better looking than your sister.
Randomize