I wish I could punch you in the face.
It wouldn't matter if you are Jesus Christ himself, you are not getting into the bar tonight
I wouldn't call it sex. It's like when you put a plug in a socket half way. It's not all the way in but it still turns on the light.
when I forget a girls name in bed I ask her her middle name then tell her i'm gonna call her that from now on
my neighbors are having lesbo sex right now.
I'm on my way.
she's bipolar. she literally has TWO facebook pages. one for each personality. this. bitch. is. crazy.
there is laundry and salad ALL OVER my car, i need context
No it's ok. I made friends with the guy that always wears helmets to the bar. His name is helmet Harry
Passing out on a toilet is not classy no matter what you're wearing. Not even a pea coat.
somehow this went from sexting to explaining my eating disorder.
Ryan friended me on LinkedIn and it took everything in my power not to endorse him for sexual dysfunction as a skill.
Black magic does not go near my vagina, it's a rule
I'm dangerously close to tossing this whole "morals" bullshit and swan-diving into the fuckboy lifestyle.
My dad is clearly baked off his ass. He almost sat on moms cat in front of her, zoned out while staring at it and said he wondered what it was thinking about. Now he's dragging everything from the livingroom into the garage. Moms not happy.
You asked him if he would have sex with you under the dinosaur. He declined and then you started crying, blaming the sand.
Randomize
