Just found a copy of intimate toy times in my mom's trash can...
I think thanksgiving was created so we could all be thankful that we're still alive after the night before.
I think misery doesn't even think of me as company anymore. I'm an unofficial roommate.
He came in looking for condoms, iced coffee, and a gas tank. I need to be where he's going.
Mystery solved: The table is broken because I had sex on it last night.
The weekend is off to a good start: she just got into a verbal fight with a hobo. Nearly a fist fight.
These are your "grown up" slampiece's new hours of operation; please plan accordingly
im in the library and there's this guy on a computer just staring at a google image of beer. finals week is rough.
I swear to go if the response she sends me something along the lines of who the fuck is Mark Hamill I might need to brake up with her.
Drug test isn't today. Now I'm just sitting in this orientation with a bag of your piss in my pants
i feel like a cleansing fire is the only way to purify the house
I'm no doctor but I don't think balls are supposed to look like that.
After I spend a passionate night with my vibrator, I have to awake and face my stuffed animals. Their beady eyes are full of shame and disappointmet. I can't deal with that level of judgement.
There's a big ass bed, hella ecstasy, and I can guarantee you'll regret every second that you remember.
Between falling off a shelf on to a concrete floor and sex with you - i may never walk again.
Randomize
