She kept calling me her DD, which I assumed meant designated driver, so I was confused because I don't even have a car. Found out later it means designated dick. It's what her and her friends use as code for the guy they want to hook up with at the end of the night. I feel so used.
I swear to god I'm going to hunt down and stab the next telemarketer that calls from a blocked number while I'm waiting for my STD results...
then again I'm sitting on a tree stump completely naked in the dark listening to some type of glee soundtrack.
I wish I could attach your penis to someone I like more than you.
She just sent me videos of her blowing my little bro and my best friend... worst. ex. ever.
I had no where to run... The dumpster sounded like a good idea at the time
I hear youre working today. To keep you entertained, ive compiled a list of condiments that my dick has NOT been slathered in since last Friday: Relish, and raspberry jam. That's right.
Just sharpening my eyeliner with a butterfly knife. You know. Typical weekday morning.
The salesman at the smoke shop just told me my hair is glorious...
But I did spend part of my morning scrubbing your cum off my grandmothers piano.
I definitely think you should enjoy one last spring break being a sorostitute before you get serious and settle down with price charming. I mean hes not going to be there any way. he can wait a week.
Every time I'm hungover I just want to watch Harry Potter and cry.
My mom just asked me if I knew what Buzzfeed was. Then said she's watching the second Magic Mike for the bodies. Please help.
He left a full handprint on my ass. He called it a "five-star review."
I had a rough night. I'm just gonna lay here and masturbate for a while before I have to go adult.
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