So my mom just called me into her room and showed me a condom wrapper she found in my room. "Oh that's from when I was like 16." I don't think that was very comforting.
and I'm going to name my autobiography "blow jobs with enthusiasm are the best"
I'm naming my autobiography "Reasons Not to Date Girls From Texas."
who do i root for if I want Christiano Ronaldo to win the world cup on a team by himself and then bang chicks on the pitch?
drunk me just left notes all around the apt to remind shitfaced me that i have mashed potatoes in the fridge. do not take them down if you come home before me.
it's my sixth sense. If there's an orgy within 20 miles of me i'll know about if. Or be a part of it.
He's practically not my boyfriend anymore. So let's go get some glitter, balloons, alcohol and forget this night ever happened.
Don't forget the part about the bar bathroom stumbles.
Oh damn, you're right. I have to include that. You turned off all the lights with your head. That was impressive.
He sent me a dick pic from work, but I could see all the pizzas in the background. Now I'm just hungry.
I'm like a freaking volcano of life and sexual frustrations
Just remember: We don't tell our English professor about our fetishes unless she specifically asks about them.
Apparently she hired a private investigator when he took out a restraining order on her. So the answer is no, I didn't hit it.
Plus you need some new dick in your life, the environment is fucked enough you don’t have to recycle anymore 😂💀
I duct taped a bottle of vodka to the back of your closet while you were sleeping in case of emergencies. Go rip it off, it's going to be a long night.
I was pretty pissed in the morning when I realized he had fucked the fake tattoo right off my chest.
My fuck it list is complete! I finally got a firefighter!
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