To bitter fit in my uterus.
None, they're all screwed.
Three. One to pay a Mexican to do it, two to deport him afterwards.
May the Ides be ever in your favor.
As if she's going to lay there and be swayed by some new buck.
Me: I'm moving back in. Mom: Your room is ready. Me: No, your uterus! Mom: Steph you drink too much
Man with a uterus somewhere
I thought Libertarians believed in small government.
