It started with Hannah Montana and ended with alcoholism.
I found the pot of gold last night, and it was full of bad decisions.
We found her naked passed out on the bathroom floor. She didn't even make it to the shower. She was clutching the bathroom rug.
I've reached the slutty point of no return. And it feels like multiple orgasms and coke lines
Let me clarify that those tears were for losing my fuck buddy and his penis, not to the fact that he decided he wanted an actual relationship with feelings.
By the way if you come home and I'm not wearing pants, just go with it. I didn't have the energy to go searching for some.
I just passed a truck with its bed lined with a tarp and filled with water with six dudes chilling in the back driving through campus. That looks fun.
I'm actually not sure I need to run today, between the crazy monkey sex and breaking into my own house.
If by some world ending natural disaster I get into an actual relationship with this kid, should I tell him the truth about the web of lies I've based our current relationship on?
Going to the bathroom drunk while wearing overalls is such a struggle
I'm sending lingerie pics that I took yesterday. I fully prepared for this holiday
There's a Taco Bell quesadilla in my shower caddy right now.
I thought you couldn't go near Germans after that restraining order
My lease is up and I've been thinking, it's only fair that the guys I've fucked in this apartment in the past year help me move. They enjoyed the bed, now help me move it.
It was like Lady and the Tramp, but just tramp and the tramp. And instead of spaghetti and meatballs, we had whiskey and cups
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