I always wonder when I meet a guy from online if he needs a moment to mentally register and accept the size of my ass. maybe ill wear a dress.
She woke me up, whispered "I like the size of your dick", kissed me, and rolled over and went back to sleep
working out is totally making me break out.. i'm doomed to forever be either a butterface or a butterbod. there is no way out.
It's shit like that that makes me wish being deaf was contagious
i just got on a party bus. i think i left my belly button at the bar.
I can count the number of hours she's been sober this weekend on one hand.
well let's see. after you forcefully shoved a half-eaten apple in my mouth, you ruined the pepsi by dumping an entire beer in there.
She pulled out a handful of chest hair. And then gave the room a Brave Heartesque speech.
I found some video of you on my camera that's like 5 seconds long, where you announce that you should have been a dentist before taking a bong hit.
I can get there in 20, one question, Drress Code? Stripper Lite (make up may require an additional 5-10 minutes), Suggestive Professor (professor Kamil's cleavage ain't got nothing on me), Daywear, Dyke (and trust me you ain't seen dyke), or Exactly What I'm Wearing Right Now. (all of the above may arrive under a coat and are subject to my level of sobriety. Which is currently like nonexistent).--xoxo you know you love me, Gossip Girl.
Can we talk about the fact that a stranger is doing a line of coke off our living room table right now?
I made him laugh his dick is mine
I'm armed with nothing but $4 lip gloss gum and my phone. Ready to take on the fucking world.
No clue what you did last night, sorry. You did hand me a pizza and a mason jar with $1200 in small bills in it when I let you in though.
I texted him "my vagina is pounding for you"
I know, you made me proof read it.
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