I think I have a pornographic memory.
Don't you mean photographic?
No.
Fact: Telling a guy he has erectile dysfunction doesn't solve the problem.
Last night he tried to put me in their garbage can and then sprayed me with a fire extinguisher in their kitchen...that house is always interesting
I just dropped macaroni right down my cleavage. For the sake of our future, I'm really banking on this being a turn on for you.
apparently i saved myself a memo last night titled "cake" and all it says is "i love it so much"
You were talking about masturbating on the phone then said you had to go because golden girls was on then you called me back saying you seen that episode already.
work has become about six times more interesting since i started fucking my boss.
The only way I can describe the noise he makes when he has an orgasm: dying walrus.
Tomorrow may or may not be a problem cause i'll be wonder woman for a halloween party aka i'll be fucked up & try & jump off of shit thinking i can fly
He'd rather cuddle with his shitty little miniature dog than the half naked girl in his bed. I've lost all hope for him and my vagina
I feel like at this point in my life I should be dating someone who doesn't run out of all his money on Mondays and have to wait til fridy to buy his weed
When a guy invites you to dinner and breakfast the next day it's implied that he's going to make some sweet loving in betwixt correct?
His face matches his life choices. Both are train wrecks.
What I'm doing now is like me taking a bagel, dropping it butter side down, leaving it for six years, picking it back up, and trying to fuck it
the awesomest thing about staying behind in our lame ass dorm room by myself during spring break: I've now nutted in 3 inconspicuous locations on your side of the room. brag to me again about how fucking awesome tahoe is you shithead. I dare you.
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