just found my old 10th grade stash of beer in a shoebox. guess who's getting trashed tonight
I was under the impression that I sent actual words. turns out it was a series of letters and question marks on a side note we still had sex
The last mom I slept with was the worst lay ever. Imagine fucking a hairy wet pillow for 60 minutes. Good luck with your milf. I was joking about the Susan Boyle comment btw.
I need a gatorade, my back cracked, my crimper, my shot glass, a sock of rice and an explanation.
You did this to yourself.
I just want to know who nailed the chicken nugget to the door.
Just showered now I smell like berries instead of shame
I started blowing him in North Dakota, and I finished the job in Minnesota. Oh, the places road head can take you.
Just to circumvent as much mood-killing as possible, you are allowed a small amount of laughter at my pubic hair. Too much and I revoke your vagina privileges until you can get your shit together.
We have such limited time together he literally sends me text messages that are like "I sent my roommates on an impossible quest, we have 15 minutes." it's that bad.
Let's go one conversation without mentioning cats or alcohol someday.
Are you still free tonight?
Oh shit I kinda forgot and took acid
I'm not allowed to have sex with him again. My vagina joined in on the protest. There was a petition. All my body parts signed it.
I hate college football. It's really fucking with our phone sex schedule.
The sex definitely would have been a perk. But not sitting in a ditch was what I was going for...
I sit across from him at graduation so I get to stare at him and think about how I fucked his step brother and laugh to myself
Randomize