I'm sorry for everything. i woke up with two citations stapled to my shirt.
I want the hot one, scratch that. anyone.
she's like the human form of herpes, as soon as you think she's gone for good you have another out break.
The last thing I remeber was convincing you to hide in the fridge, and then taking everything out and you not fitting.
Dude I'm telling you, conditioner is the best for jerking it in the shower. It feels great and afterwards everything is all smooth
I tried to throw up out of my window but I forgot there was a mesh screen.
Stop staring at my boobs, I can't concentrate
Well how do you think I feel
fair enough
His bootycalls folder in his contacts are divided into regions, we should have all become airline pilots.
Trying to low-key throw up in the ocean is harder than it seems.
this is a preemptive text before you call me freaking out: i have your keys and your car is parked safely a block down from your apartment.
you are a goddess
I ate breakfast with him. And by ate breakfast I mean we fucked on the kitchen table.
Also, I wish we had magnetic nipple rings and our boobs stuck together.
Thank you, BTW, for defiling my bed. Glad it was done well.
This conversation went from me banging other women's husbands to learning about baked goods. If that isn't personal growth I don't know what is.
Come as you are, bitch. Glitter and vodka provided.
Randomize