I just made out with a guy for $7.
I found out 2day that my dad was a stripper in New Oleans.
He just bought a 100-pack of condoms of Amazon. My vagina is already tired.
In the middle of switching positions, we shared a line of coke. It's was like a modern-day 'Lady and the Tramp.'
Sometimes I wonder how you ever made friends then I remember it's because you blew your way to semi-relevance
her mom went out of her way to book us a room with separate beds... her level of gay denial is in beast mode
I shame-fucked to Hotel California, don't tell me about priorities.
All I vaguely remember from last night is getting up on that nice mahogany table and debating about squirrel's rights
Because she seems like the type to give it up for a box of fruit rollups.
Girl this is ridiculous I told my self that I would stop having sex in stairwells yet it keeps happening
your life is going to be an empowering working mom montage tomorrow to Katy P's ROAR... --are you living in a yoplaít comercial?
Our nipples touched last night. It was tender.
He said my vagina is harder to escape than the Temple of Doom.
Also, apparently I'm only coherent when I'm drunk sexting. And then I'm grammatically perfect and impressively eloquent.
I may or may not be drinking in a church parking lot.
Randomize