she was talking to me but i could help but stare at the extremely long hairs on her boobs. then she says, "your looking at the hair on my boobs aren't you"
It's not just about fucking anymore... We decided we're actually in like now..
You are the sheppard guiding my vagina away from horrible decisions.
You told the waitress last night "What tip bracket do I have to be in to see your boobs"
There was a canoe full of alcohol. It was literally a boat load of fun
Dong worry about me. I just cashed bottle of wine when I found out he was in town, I'm being dramatic. I'll text you tomorrow when I'm sober and my face stops bleeding
So the drug dealer I'm sleeping with just got drugs from the other drug dealer I'm sleeping with
Isn't life beautiful?
Thats not how it works. You get the Rachel, and then Rachel kicks you out. Don't linger or try to cuddle, its just pathetic and makes me look down on you and your penis
I invented the best game. It's called "what touched my exposed nutsack?" It can range from pillows to toothbrushes
Imagine getting a FB inbox "hey I found your ID on the floor of a bar can you send me a mugshot so I can get a second piece of ID made?"
There still is not and there never will be anything as magical as getting high while listening to William Shatner's version of Bohemian Rhapsody.
I'm sorry but the visual image of you suffocating on vagina is basically hysterical
His face matches his life choices. Both are train wrecks.
You have no concept of how high I am, do you?
I am drunk shake weighting right now.
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