i lost my life and panties somewhere between the 15th and 16th round of slap the bag.
i just learned how to squirt via google. life is good.
Just mindlessly walked into the mens bathroom. My vagina has now become its own independent being, looking for penises. I'm just along for the ride.
She just looked down there and said "i breed horses. this is better than anything ive ever seen."
decision: in honor of being in new orleans this weekend all my drunk texts will be en francais
I feel like somebody took my brain out. Stomped on it with cleats. And then put it back together with a glue stick. Thank you.
you were wearing a pair of wings and handing out McDonalds apple pies, if anyone refers to you as the "Rave Fairy" you now know why.
THIS EXPLAINS SO MUCH.
i told myself when i was 16 i would never fuck an Alan. now i've fucked 3 and i'm punching my 16-year-old self in the face
Like an undercooked grilled cheese that got cold again. But hairy.
And there goes my desire for sandwiches. Forever.
Well, I could just slap my dick to my phone and see what it says
I have rug burns on my nipples. Thanks for being an awesome wing girl.
I told him I was studying his body for art, so now I have to actually do a drawing of him to not look like a creep and so we can hook up again.
from across the room i saw you look into your beer and whisper "i love you"
when i woke up with rugburns on the tops of my feet, knees, and chin i was a little confused. and then i remembered i had sex with him in his friends walk in closet.
how do you say “i know we haven’t hung out in a month, but i gave myself an amazing orgasm to your picture the other day” without coming on too strong
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