I love sluts.
I end my prayers with that every single night.
the only reason I knew his name is because half way through I looked up and it was tatooed on his chest.
the pharmacist hit on me as i picked up my herpes medecine. i think we found a winner.
oh man. maybe i should puke on his dick? just to test how much he loves me?
i left the icescrapper in his bathroom. i dont remember taking it there, but i remember brushing his hair with it.
I smell like Captain Morgan and tears
hold on, were in the kitchen painting a yellow brick road to my vagina on my leg with black light paint.
They woke me up at 4 in the morning screaming "drunk adventure time!" because they needed a sober chaperone. They made me walk them around the block shoeless.
I'd like to thank you fucktards for dumping the WHOLE box of Tricuits in my bed after I passed out.
You drink it until you puke in a vent one time and it's ruined forever.
so you know how I brush my teeth after I give you a bj? according to my dentist my teeth have never been cleaner. looks like this will be a recurring thing
no, but he did start crying. who the fuck is 30, covered in tattoos and crys about an ex? get your shit together, man.
I should've realized you were drunk when you began to point at my crotch while yelling "Funland!!!"
you are the only girl i know that would bring a plate of cookies to a hook up. but they were awesome. thanks. next time cupcakes?
God gave you your own nipples for a reason.
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