Taylor Swift is so right about you.
this is a mass text: i just made a grilled cheese with an iron and pasta with the coffeemaker in the hotel room. bow before your new god.
I guess I should mention that I have already fucked the Fed Ex guy.
That changes everything.
No, seriously, 1.5 gallons of sangria plus two days of untapped cock. Waiting here. For you.
There was no way out of it, seeing as I left my photo ID right next to the vomit.
for future reference: playing drunken strip-twister is a euphemism for a threesome. just thought you should know.
His bootycalls folder in his contacts are divided into regions, we should have all become airline pilots.
Check out this gay circle: I've now hooked up with my ex-boyfriend, my ex's ex-boyfriend, my ex's ex-boyfriend's ex-boyfriend, and most recently my ex's ex-boyfriend's ex-boyfriend's ex-fling.
thanks for the bloody nose. you probably dont remember, i'm not mad.. only because your boobs are to blame
its amazing there are so many photos of me and him separately, since most of that party time was spent sneaking away to fuck upstairs...
I sliced my fucking arm open last night after margarita madness and had to drive myself to the ER. Got six stitches and a social worker came in and asked if I was abused due to my sex bruises. I literally had to tell her "don't worry, I like it rough"
I bought us both waterproof cases so we can sext through FaceTime in the shower.
Next. Level. Shit.
I'm now consulting a magic eight ball on all major life decisions. On another note I think I have chlamydia.
He's so in love with you that you could fuck a blood relative and he'd be like "I just want you to be happy"
they gave me money. the money smells like weed. also they gave me weed
Randomize
