Just taught my suite how to queef. I feel like i'm back in 9th grade!
I understand that I gave you a nose bleed with a cheeto last night and for that I apologize
I think I need to stop sleeping with him. Sex with him is just a reminder of the mediocrity of the rest of my life.
She's grinding on a deaf black man and I'm the interpreter.
when you tell me you got me a birthday present, I have to assume it will show up in a drug test.
i know i said i'd always be there for you, but i'm beginning to think that what you call "being there for me" the american judicial system calls reckless endangerment.
I got picked up after "I just threw up in my face". Then I had very specific instructions involving the bathtub.
he doesn't sweat normal. maybe that's what THC smells like coming through the sweat glands...
He told me he felt like he was just pistol-whipped by Testicle Man.
I wish I saved his nudes so I could anonymously submit them to his tumblr
it was also funny because at one point I woke up with my hands tied with a belt and we were both like what the fuck
Because sadly the idea of me having a girlfriend is crazy enough to be an April fools prank
Im including "no monologues past 1am" in the list of apartment rules. Theatre majors dude.
No, I'm not a weirdo, I keep bondage straps under my matress like a normal person, not a diary.
Who the abstract fuck do you think you are!?
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