The spoon I was using to ice my hickey just fell out of my purse while i was paying at the liquor store. I look like an alcoholic with a meth problem.
he would probably call me "ma'am" when he's inside me. people love saying weird shit inside me.
he asked me to eat out his asshole. after five minutes of uncomfortable staring i realized he was serious.
I gave her a mint afterward. It felt like giving turndown service at Hotel BJ.
My therapist told me it was ok for me to "take risks" now. Cue the hookers and blow.
Ive been home for 20 minutes and I'm already in bed with a vodka tonic
At this point I will cuddle anything to prevent from dying alone
The fact that he said "there's nothing wrong with being a raging drunk, just ask my mother." has me thinking that I have no positive role-models among my friends.
so when our kids ask "when did you know you loved mommy?" you're gonna say "when she sent me emoticons about slobbing on my knob?"
And I wasn't prepared because its been a very long and lonely season and I wasn't expecting to find dick at Press Box trivia night....
Is this the point in which we come to terms with our lesbianism or is that after you send me more ass pics...
I'm far too poor to be letting my hookups wear my shirts home. I'm down to about a total of 8 shirts and have no intention of buying more
If Boring and Monotone had a love child, it would be this guy.
the sex is SO much better when he thinks im going insane
LOOK AT HOW SMOOTH THIS BITCH IS
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