I'm literally partying with O.J. Simpson's son right now. I don't know what to make of this.
sleazy september. first one with mono loses.
I swear, its like my old fuck buddies have a 6th sense for when I'm going to be daydrunk. Then they start texting me. And then I start sexting them
The closest thing to a sext that you will ever receive from me is a picture of pepperonis on Greg's asscheeks, clenching.
By this time next year I expect us to have full time jobs that we can call out of so we can day drink on beautiful days like this. Oh, and grill.
HE'S LICKING FROSTING OFF OF THE EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD BOY
Went kayaking. drunk. DID NOT FALL IN. Mission succesful.
I feel like there is something fundamentally wrong with me as a woman. My initial text to you was "What's up, fuck bucket?"
Um ... did I have a lizard on my shoulder last night at the bar?
Know anything about my roof collapsing last night?
Tequila.
I never forget a pussy, even blackout me gives me that memory.
Would you still love me and fuck me doggie style if I had a dinosaur tramp stamp?
And I'm laying here struggling with the notion that I need to put pants on.
I threw your vagina at him like a grenade. And sweet Jesus he caught it like a champ
the gnome is staring at me and the pineapple is wearing shorts. I don't want to do this anymore.
Randomize
