You know, sometimes I seriously doubt your commitment to sparkle motion.
foreplay: 7 minutes. sex: 3 minutes. cuddling: 10 minutes. getting dressed: 5 minutes. commute: 5 minutes.
Just remembered to take my BC at the liquor store. Just swallowed it with a free sample of Whiskey.
I don't even want to talk about it, I'm traumatized. Even the dog knew to take advantage of the most intoxicated girl at the party...
the trick is not to think about where her tounge has been.
Why does he only make me orgasm when I'm about to break up with him?
Who's got a bloodstream full of margaritas by 2pm? Not you, that's for sure, because you've got one of those "real" jobs.
I invited you and you fucked me in the face with the penis of disappointment and shit.
You had two tasks: \n1) put on a condom \n2) text me so I don't walk in on you \nIt really isn't that hard
Just rolled up to a matinee showing of THE HOBBIT. At the dollar theater. Alone. In sweats. With a fifth of sunnybrook and leftover pizza in a ziplock. There's a dude here in cape with his elderly mother. I'm handling this breakup FIIIIIINE.
Oh dear. If we're both hearing alien sounds then perhaps they're real.
Can you send me the picture you took of me smoking a joint with the cat make-up on?
Update: drank half a bottle of Bourbon and texted three ex's. Waiting for the roommates to go to sleep so I can raid the fridge.
I finally got my restraining order in the mail. Was that supposed to upset me? I'm just over here like "TELLEM BOY BYE!-\nlegally..."
she said she doesn't remember seeing me at all last night. ...I was with her for six hours, there's no way she could have been blackout the whole time
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