i'm not a human right now. not even a dancer.
Definitely locked eyes with the stripper who gave me a lapdance last night as she walked by me and into the Ann Taylor Loft in Times Square.
Why did I wake up this morning with 10 tally marks on my hand and a penis drawn on my tits?
Update. It gets worse. A) he's done viagra and B) he wears socks at all times.
Thank you blackberry messenger, for giving me a way to sext faster and more efficiently
I am in fact going to raffle myself off for a night. If you are interested in buying a ticket let me know. $10 a ticket.
I feel like I ran a fucking marathon on my knees last night and there are bruises to prove it.
playing nyquil roulette. it entails taking shots of nyquil and hoping it doesnt kick in during sex or in public. game on.
In lieu of flowers, please donate to The Hungover Children's Fund in my name.
I'll be so proud. Like a proud mama bear freeing my slut cub into the wild.
Whatever, I used my iphone to send an Escalade to pick up a booty call last week. For free. It is futuristic as fuck out here.
I'm back in the dating scene now... Since the legality issue calmed down. And my stalking charges were dropped.
If you're going to do that you're going to need a pleather suit.
did you just send me my own nude
I would give away three of my own ribs to be able to eat myself out.
...ew
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