Well I'm going to a gay club in my banana suit. You should come. My bro is going as a pirate. I don't know if there's a theme.
Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
then they high fived as they party boyed me. I was a policewoman sandwhich. I love you halloween.
if by 'bottleservice' you mean 'bringing beers in my purse' then yes, we are.
So I told her I dislocated my shoulder and she said "well okay. I can either be on top or blow you."
Decisions, decisions.
I was desperate so I downed my birth control with balsamic vinaigrette...
Don't worry, your car is safe with me. I am throwing watermelons out of it at mailboxes and hipster kids.
He's trying to marry me, when is the appropriate time to tell him my real name and that Dallas is a completely fictitious slutty alter ego? I need the advice of someone with morals.
Jelly. This is your "are you still alive" text. Any response will do.
Hey I found a cat!
You also thought the cure to hiccups was drowning yourself (and you were right)
Thursday could be nutella day. You could make me a nutella sandwich and then fuck me senseless
We played Rock Paper Scissors to see who would have to go down on the other person.
She tried deep frying a banana by placing one, unpeeled, into a toaster.
Okay but look at his jawline. I NEED TO RIDE IT.
I didn’t spend $100 for a wax to sit here and listen to you FT your brother to complain about how bad the Jets are.
Randomize
