I am far too drunk to be making a tuna melt . There's blood EVERYWHERE.
I'm sorry I didn't make it out, I got distracted by sparkley boobies.
It was an igloo shaped doghouse, I was obligated to hotbox it
He had a cowboy hat I don't know where from and he was trying to lasso a snowman with a dog leash.
Thanks for pulling me out of the bed by my feet atleast one of us was sober enough to know I had work at 5 am.
my goal was to make out with as many people dressed as batman as possible. I have my priorities.
I feel like everytime I call him he's either fucking or getting into trouble. It's really disturbing that he presses the answer button and then proceeds to fuck her harder.
Why can't it ever be the normal ones that stalk me?
Dear slutty diary: I lied about feeling guilty of being a homewrecker in order to have more sex. it worked.
I'm going to try to ignore the homoerotic subtext in that last question...
YOUR BALLS CAME OUT. DONT CALL ME A SHITSHOW.
Do you realize half our text conversations are you asking me for tit pics and me saying no?
You yelled to anyone that tried to help you "I have a burrito, what else could a girl want?"
These morning walks of shame have became my morning jogs
just saw a kid waiting at the door of the stairs for the elevator. there is no elevator in this building. get on his level.
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