Disregard any previous text from the past 12 hours. Except for the one about scoring a strike while drunk bowling. Remember that one.
i am exhausted. it's been years. we both know his dick is small. the jig is up.
i dont care how hungover you are, go back to the frat house and get him. HE IS 11.
I've been living off of popsicles and broth.
The homeless guy out front said it's his birthday and he asked us to join him for happy hour after work. He's buying a fifth of gin to celebrate.
One of my students in my 8am class brought me a Tim Hortons cup with a bloody Mary in it. Clearly, I didn't manage to look not drunk when I ran into him at Denny's at 4am. Who decided to let me teach?
I'll probably regret it tomorrow. But right now, accepting this $2000 credit card so that I can finance booty calls from across the united states sounds like a golden idea.
only in a texas roadhouse would someone whistle while I was breastfeeding.
Ive only seen a dude masterbate on a train twice, once on the Jtrain and once on the Ftrain... trust me you never wanna see where the subway turns around.
Did you know that scruff feels epic on boobs especially when they are covered in whip cream?
I'm just gonna go have sex with whom ever is in the men's room.
The smell of mosquito spray completely ruined the sex.
I have 80 very blurry photos of you on a stripper pole...
we've talked on the toilet we're linked now
I'm reading fall out boy fanfic. What has my life come to.
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