So when we opened his headboard we found a bottle of crisco sitting on top of his porn magazines.
I guess we all know what he was cookin.
then the nurse gave me a bag with my personal belongings: phone, wallet. jacket, keys and a BTB burrito
today was the first day of rush. talking to girls all day makes me sick of having a uterus.
I dig being used for consequence free sex. Not consequenceful sex.
so the last visual we have of him for the next 87 weeks is him outside on the ground rolling around yelling I HATE BLOWJOBS
I can't be held responsible for my own vagina. Let's just be honest here.
Im embracing the luau theme and maybe bringing a kiddie pool filled with alcohol. Im also embracing the high probability I will not remember this night.
I have to cancel. My sons dad is out of jail unexpectedly and i'm kinda an emotional wreck. P.s. This is not the life I dreamed of as a little girl.
I feel like I owe it to them to wear pants.
i am an animal i am literally locking myself in my house and not coming out for a week i don't deserve to be in public
I don't have time to shower before my passport photos...your cum is all over my hair...that's with me for 10 years now
I wanted to say, you're welcome for your orgasms, thanks for not returning the favor, Needledick
You threw up everything but your ovaries.
I'm at this party and a blind kid just walked in and asked "where is the fucking pong table"
I'm eating dinner with his parents and my phone goes "MOVE BITCH GET OUT THE WAY!" Thanks.
Randomize
