We could sell used underwear with pictures of us wearing them.
all we ever talk about is how much i like your dick or my drug problem.
Wait, we're on the hunt for addys and explosives. They're both in this house somewhere.
He literally didn't stop until I lost count of how many times he made me orgasm. It took three hours.
Plotting your own moral demise should not be this fun
You should see the damage i did to the apartment last night. So many broken things and butter sticks stuck to windows.No memorys
The first clue should've been that he literally had shit in his hair. How does that even happen?
I'm almost positive that you shat in a birdhouse
Who knew that the guy I fucked on your front lawn during welcome week freshman year would turn out to be my husband
My makeup bag looks like it has lips and wants to sing to me... Too high?
I could be the Kenny Powers of Sex Therapists.
Listen all I know is that mistakes were made and she stole the car and drove half an hour for food at 4 am
I had Mac n cheese made with weed butter last night. Epic
Really dude? drunk texts at 9 in the morning? its wednesday
While finding our clothes afterwards he says..."So do we like have to talk after this?"
Randomize
