As we walked into his room, he said welcome to the hurt locker. I should have left, but I love that movie.
My dick just stopped my iPhone from falling into the toilet.
I had to download the flashlight app so I could finish taking a dump when the power went out.
All I need is the Internet and a place to drink.
You need 4-7 business day to recover from a fingering like that.
I hate about 85% of people that I meet. I'm an awful person. In reality my only redeeming qualities are my face, my amazing scissoring skills and the fact that children love me.
True on all accounts.
I petted my head, told my hair it felt beautiful and needed to be let free. Then pulled out my pony tail. Cheers to weed. I lose.
I feel like this is the moment of high where you have to write these texts down to remember to text them and feel that somehow this is important to the continuity of the world.
If there's so much of a hint of a whisper from somebody I didn't tell personally, I will cut off your balls with a chainsaw, cauterize the wound with a flaming rusty spoon, feed your balls to your dog, and feed them to you when he shits them out, capiche?
He wanted me to blow him while he did curls and looked at himself in the mirror. Not sure if gay or ego maniac.
Prerry sure I narrowly avoided being tazed by a swat cop last night... But on the up side, we found my purse.
Don't talk to me about lonely until you're eating marshmallows for dinner in your underwear watching House of Cards for 12 hours straight. I hate all you couples
I couldn't break up with him while I was wearing a Hakuna Matata shirt.
He had a cruise ship of a dick and I need to set sail on that ocean again
He fired me, I fucked his wife, we're even I think...
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