the cure to his relationship is in or around my vagina.
Bel-fucking-mar, this place has more popped collars than a Hollister catalog
walked into class wearing my zorro costume. some girl just said "oh my god, i fucked zorro this weekend." I found her.
We jumped on a random trolley because total strangers offered us free vodka. We're not even on the route map as far as I can tell. I see now how those people died in "Hostel"... we deserve whatever happens to us tonight.
Some clips from last night: grinded like I haven't since college. Took shots with a bartender with a bad ass mustache. Made up a string of lies with fake names and occupations. Slept behind the couch with pizza in my hand
Found a fruit roll up in my pocket this morning. This means my daughter has a peach blunt wrap in her lunchbox.
I'm 50% weirded out and 50% into it
If his smile makes you freak out and drop things imagine what his penis could do
The last thing I remember is him yelling from across the room "WE FINISHED THE HANDLE!"
It was 11pm.
My goal for the weekend: procure a blowjob using only stern glances, hand gestures, and crudely-drawn stick figures.
I signed the divorce papers. Can I get a blowjob now?
Everybody posting sickening holiday couple pics and I'm over here deepthroating a bottle of whiskey.
I did a line of coke with my ex tonight. Talk about memories
You know my vagina and my heart have a mind of their own even when it’s pouring snow.
Are you texting me while pooping again?
I'm also playing fetch with the dog
Randomize
