Well I thought that next 8 ball would either kill us or turn us into Gods
"Guy Time" translaed into 10 shots apiece and me waking up covered in my own blood.
It's like god made him fantastic at oral to make up for what his mouth does the rest of the time.
I love you so must. You as do fraty. You are truly my veste breakable (ties I wtf racket Andover). Luce you. Have a safe drive bio dough failover.
Mistakes were made. Hot mistakes that I want to make again. But tapping your employee is def a mistake. Esp in front of two other employees.
Just gave my pregnant cat a safe sex talk. That high.
Or maybe I'll just keep introducing myself like, hello, they call me iane because I need the D. Applications are submitted online, women need not apply.
You rope them in with the looks and the boobs, and I'll bore them into submission with random trivia. We can't lose.
Didn't pick classes because we were out all weekend...only open course is "alcohol and drug problems". Fucking ironic.
It was inevitable. It was like I was a caterpillar and now I'm a drunk and high butterfly
If you think eating a bowl of leftover stuffing and drinking champagne from the bottle in dirty sweats at 9am is sexy... Then yeah, I'm your girl.
carb up bitch. we're drinking with football players.
I just want to see his penis in the light. Is that a crime?
Anyways enough about genital fatigue...
I don't know if I'm dying or this is just a mild inconvenience
Randomize
