I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
they just did a mariachi cover of free bird
im covered in puffy paint and glitter i cant find kevin and im wearing shoes that dont belong to me....come get me please
and all i could think about was how mcdonalds would not be open anymore after we were done having sex
Its like after 6 beers, the clap doesn't scare me anymore.
Of course I'm hard in the pics. If there's a chance that these pictures will cause a scandal later in my life I at least want my dick to look it's biggest
I can feel myself smiling like 10 minutes after I stop smiling, and that's just like... so awesome.
I feel like everytime I call him he's either fucking or getting into trouble. It's really disturbing that he presses the answer button and then proceeds to fuck her harder.
You climbed into the Suite next to us at the game so you could steal the half eaten hot dog someone had left on the table. That high.
I've already reverted to sweat pants. And lonely drinking.
yeah the little voice in my head screaming YOU NEED TO GET LAID eventually grew legs and started kicking me so to avoid brain damage i had to fuck him
Fuck you, if it wasn't for us going to the city, she would be using me as a human sex toy all day.
with the possibility that i could very easily fall in love with him and i've actually talked to my HUSBAND about it
He kept spinning my wedding ring like thanks buddy I remember
So this morning when I woke up. I found my refrigerator open and no more food. It was empty, I'm home alone for the week. Where in hell did that food go?
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