I've decided to film a documentary centered around how he manages to keep that beast caged in such tight pants
I just put anything in between my legs and hope for the best.
so basically i'm the" little sister", he's the "big brother" and we just fucked
That bad?
Full length cargo pants, running shoes, and a partial unibrow. Alcohol really is blinding.
apparently i was just sitting there with my shirt down holding my boobs saying "its ok. its all gonna be ok"
He just made a mudslide using rubinoff and swiss miss packets. This can't end well....
the bar tender told me i could keep an air matress in the backroom.
She came back in her actual cheerleader uniform. Made a bad bj tolerable.
My Mom printed off all of my Augusts text messages. Apparently I've been drinking WAY too much and having an intermediate drug problem. I have to go home everyw weekend for the rest of the semester
It was an "I snuck in through the window at 5am with my underwear in my pocket" kind of night.
We're now referring to our nightly Skype time as "strokes of genius." Long distance sucks.
Update: I spent 10 minutes trying to fish out a rogue vagina weight.
His name isnt in my phone as “Satan’s spawn” for no reason. #devildick
I'm one bad relationship away from owning seven cats.
If you think me talking about that hot guy accepting my LinkedIn request is pornographic, I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel when I tell you I fucked a stranger on a park bench last weekend
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