Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
i effin hate jeff goldbloom.
but i totally would still bang him
Please don't tell anyone I peed on your wall.
I don't really want to write this paper. It's the last one of the semester - I need to savor the feeling of procrastination.
you were crying while pretty ricky was playing, what did you want me to do
Hes sobering up now. He was just really bad for like 45 minutes. He cried while he was telling me how he pictured us eating hotdogs on the beach together..
I want someone to sweep me off my feet and you want someone to fuck you on the kitchen table. They're both perfectly logical needs.
I've somehow found myself in an emotionally abusive relationship with a married man who gives me drugs.
My life is quickly turning into a Lifetime movie.
I'll pretend I don't know she's blind, my morals claimed the back seat in this adventure.
I sent a picture of my balls to one of my best friends, so basically it was an average night.
I'm going to invent an ap that tests your stress levels before texting and will say something like "nope, go rub one out and try again in 10 min"
you told me you wanted to be a soccer mom with a high tolerance then you put the bottle to your face
So congratulations, your penis has now sent me to urgent care not once, but twice!
Good news! Blood’s flowing!
I'm just bringing him "breakfast," and breakfast may lead to lunch and dinner, but that doesn't mean I want the mealplan.
Randomize
