What happened to the watermelon?
You fucked it.
You were so drunk you tried to sell your salsa to everyone on the restaurant.
Alone. In an inflatable pool. Drinking vodka and raspberry lemonade. I don't need approval as much as I need to know you love me still.
America approved of our night. A bald eagle flew over us at 7am
Your expertise in crazy bitches is needed.
Hurry up and get here. I already announced to the bar that you were on a mission to get laid tonight. I have 3 takers.
I really appreciate you zipping up my pants at the bar. You didn't even ruin my Bermuda triangle.
You call it a hangover, I call it a baby squirrel burrowing its way out of my head.
Hey, remember when Hot Stuff played in the back of the ambulance? Or no, cause of your concussion...
There is not greater feeling than lying to your boss and leaving work to shit in the comfort of your own home
I can't finger myself when I'm all distracted about whether or not your family is going to like me
fuck you and your stupid hot as hell face
Is "I am going to murder you if you keep sending me requests that I cannot fulfill" unprofesh?
Something about finishing sexting a guy and him going "well. I have to get ready for Passover now" really makes me rethink my life choices
Its okay. I just know how you can text with your hands cuffed behind you back, so I had no idea what "oh shit" meant.
Randomize
