He's only a little bit crosseyed.
I think this is one situation where "a little bit" doesn't mean much.
im wtih 32a right now bc 34d is on her period. now i know how girls feel when their hookups go from magnums to regulars
Easy Mac is falling out of my sweatshirt as I'm walking down the street.
Her bed is on wheels, so we woke up in the kitchen.
You said your legs stopped working and then pulled yourself around the floor with your hands.
That explains the wood chips stuck in my nipples.
It's like a bag of dicks covered in taint sweat pounding a pregnant baby walrus.
And if I hated you I'd probably say things like, "I never want to speak to you again," or, "Eat a bag of dicks." That's how you'd know.
I will pee on everything he values.
I'm in that weird half-dead, half fucked-simultaneously-in-every-orifice-by-a-bus-and-it-wasn't-a-good-time state.
I was so drunk that I passed out before I could do or say anything I'd regret. My low alcohol tolerance is like a guardian angel.
I just shaved my pubes into a heart shape. if that doesn't scream romantic idk what does
Liquor has joined the party. Aly just fucking yelled "I LOVE COOKING" and poured margarita mixer, ice and tequila into the blender.
I feel like hooking up with you on my floor, sneaking out my window and jumping a fence is an effort that deserves a happy birthday.
Seriously if we go to rome ur fucking me into the sunset on a wrought iron balcony overlooking Vatican City
I'm sorry I missed your birthday brunch. If it makes you feel any better I woke up wearing someone else's toga and a sombrero
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