So im pretty sure the object of my emotional onterest is tired of playing with me....
Nothing commands respect in a meeting like Jack Daniels on the breath. You're fine.
Note to self: Not getting laid all weekend makes girls in mondays classes racks seem enormously bigger.
He's either a really good actor or an actual prince, I'm fine with both so I'll sleep with him.
I don't remember his name but he sat in the bathroom and gave us both advice...
Forgot to mention there might be a picture of me being thrown in the air while at a Mexican restaurant
I'm the saddest girl in a tutu right now.
I don't like getting sloppy drunk but I don't like getting just half drunk either, I'm way too responsible if my blood alcohol level is below 0.2
The problem with Wednesday evening drinking is that no gets to my level. It's like like a one man party. But it's a goood party.
I woke up with a stapler in my ass. Don't even complain to me.
Meant to have fun, ended up giving speech about consent to guy at bar. Feminist side feels happy. Orgasms side feels confused and betrayed.
Why is there puke in my guitar?
Because you puked in your guitar.
He deliberately gets me high because he knows I fuck better and then I make food for two. I don't know if I should feel mad or proud of him for thinking that far.
I knew she was the one when we had sex to the halo soundtrack.
Im not as flexible as I once was, but I still managed to get eaten out in the front seat of a hummer behind keddies.
Randomize
