By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
We just used hot candle wax from our joint lighting candle to make a bunch of new small ones how stoned are we
I have a feeling this won't be the last time I wake up wrapped in a shower curtain with the words "Blame Bono" spray painted on it
I wish you would always start your sentences with "speaking of my clit..."
there is an extreme lack of margarita in my mouth.
Think of where it's been though. That Dr. Suess book, "Oh the Places You'll go" was written for his penis.
He told me he loved me and then asked if we could have sex in the snow
But seriously, I hug most of my drug dealers.
I know it's early but when you wake up can you please validate my life and tell me I'm not just a drunk idiot.
So his shoes are still here. And there are three contacts in a case. And a shirt on the bed. I've checked my dorm and he's not here. I'm so confused.
First thing I find in the car I just pick up from my grandpa? A discount card for the strip club down the road from his apartment. The force is still strong.
too bad we didn't bet. my 38-1 tears would have made great lubrication for a blow job.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. But he promised me no small talk so that was nice
Also, my old intern Lizzie whom you fed pizza to last night wants to hang out with you
roommate singing save a horse ride a cowboy wearing a cowboy hat a bikini and jeans while humping the couch.
Randomize
