They have to be talking about me. I never heard that statement until I was born.
my phone is just a graveyard for last nights mistakes. at least it's giving me hints as to where i was though, i'm like carmen sandiego
susan atkins died, charles manson's lady
dont cry, there are other serial killers to crush on.
Dude you can't just initiate a threesome via twitter
I actually want to hang out with her with our clothes on. That's a big step up for me.
Managed to get through family dinner without anyone knowing I was tripping balls. Christmas miracle. He exists.
I just brushed my teeth. In the car. With watered down Sprite. From Saturday. Multi-tasking at its finest.
Dude, she got "I party too much" skinny. She looks like a recovering drug addict.
At least I'm fat on the outside. You can NEVER change being fat on the inside.
Sex obviously provides more sustenance than oatmeal.
after attempting to eat a candy cane bigger than my hand i have determined there's no way to eat this that doesn't seem erotic
He is more interested in finding his sweater than he is in having sex with me. It better be a great fucking sweater.
He literally poured blue Gatorade on me after we had sex and said "good game" all over my white sheets
worse hangover than the time you almost threw up in a plant in front of your daycare kids?
...I don't remember telling you about that but yes
Profesor just winked at me. This class might be easier than I thought
Randomize
