I dont know why I dont listen to you more often. He wont stop texting me. And his signature is "dancing with no panties on"
Just had to explain my "wine me. Dine me. Sixty-nine me" key chain to my grandma...she took it surprisingly well.
all I know is he gave me a Cialis and tried to take me home.
downstairs . braiding the drunk passed out girls hair, she will thank us In the morning
He told me that "my little fuckpig" was a term of endearment in Britain. I think I'm in love.
I'm missing some hair, but it's cool. Breadsticks are done.
There are too many people and smells in this elevator for my hangover to handle.
It's not really that big. Girls just think it feels big. It's a cocktical illusion.
Seriously, I am going to crawl in a hole, sew my vagina shut, and spit acid on any man that comes near me.
He ripped off my pantyhose and all I could think was, "oh no those were clinic-appropriate!" That's what I get for ditching a continuing education meeting to go hook up with my scuba instructor.
New BDSM fun fact. When you get spanked hard enough with a flat object, you get welts. Welcome to thunderdome, bitches.
Now I don't feel like I'm sweating cheeseburger all the time.
I need you to be best friend brutally honest about whether or not I can go into public like this.
Never start off a conversation with "speaking of STD's..."
Election Day 2016 shall forever live in infamy as the day when I hobbled through my neighborhood, mascara melting down my face, wearing one slipper and a cast, blood and cum all over my skirt, carrying a box of wine, and no one even noticed.
Randomize
