um. i met him on myspace...we text now, he lives down the street
I wouldn't call it sex. It's like when you put a plug in a socket half way. It's not all the way in but it still turns on the light.
saw you walking with that piece of shit
and that piece of shit just read that
PS, you're not being slutty, you're "making dreams true."
I don't think I have ever been told that I am "probably too drunk to pet the stingrays" by a cop before.
I was going through my mom's high school yearbook...almost half the people who signed it referred to her as "Karen Smokejoints", "Confused Karen", or drew a picture of a joint. I have never felt more like her daughter.
I mean I'm not worried about us not getting wasted. I'm more worried that I'll be doing a Boris yeltzen impression by 1030.
Gong!
YOU'RE MARRIED NOW YOU CAN'T KEEP GONGING ME WHEN YOU GET LAID IT DOESN'T COUNT
He ripped off his socks and ran around the basement barefoot. His feet turned black. Then he chugged Parmesan cheese. He chugged dry cheese dude.
is that a sigh of girlish delight, or "sigh...I'm having a herpes outbreak'
Can't it be both?
I asked him to explain what he meant by "hooking up" in paragraph form
Glow Paint looked great for the Black Light Party last night, Tonight having a glow in the dark Pizza on my arm, not so much.
Ugh. The fucking vaginal recession is so real right now.
My car has a permanent smell of sex to it now.
dude im trying to eat his ass so can you stop for 10 minutes
Randomize
