Cool, so I just walked in on my grandfather checking his prostate in the kitchen.
I've never seen the starbucks guy more terrified than when you dove out the car window after your credit card
level of my singleness - just ate a whole pizza topless in bed.
just printed out my drug dealers resume for him. guess the ecstasy scene slows down when kids move back home for the summer...
I have a pocket in my purse that is just for condoms and cocktail swords. I feel like that speaks volumes about me as a person
I just want to have normal problems like what kind of puppy to get, or should I pay a hooker to fuck Scott, or even a dilemma about fucking Twizzlers. I don't know.
Also, nothing screams "don't talk to me because I'm unstable" like walking around eating cookie dough out of the package.
You climbed on top of the bar, shotgunned a 25oz fosters and screamed, Steve Irwin was a God amongst men.
I was thinking that, but I'm not sure the proper etiquette on asking about someone's nipple rings. Even if you did see them and compliment them once.
Our conversation concluded a weekly schedule of casual sex in between classes.
He made a deal with his real estate agent called fucking in 50 properties for sale
She started throwing ice at me and started yelling, "Holy water bitches! This is an exorcism!"
First time a guy goes down on me and his dog had its head on my knee the whole time. I swear it was judging me.
I texted him back and I am so nervous I may vomit up all of the soup I just ate.
Panties = found
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