He came through my line today and bought designer impostor perfume, just for men gel, and astroglide. I almost DIED.
I woke up to him eating me out, listening to classical music.
i want to find a way to basically assault his face with my vagina.
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
Here's the level of my committment: I'm not participating in the Olympic opening ceremonies drinking game. THIS IS SERIOUS.
I asked her politely not to touch my dick
After her AA meeting, she was on the phone with her mom, and when she said, "they're making me start over with Step 1," I quietly sang, "cut a hole in the box".
You came into my room and started rubbing a banana on your face.
I should get him a card "thanks for letting me use you for your penis on and off as I see fit and for being a nice guy. My boobs and I appreciate your loyalty and dedication"
I have no inclination to even want to think about what God's existential meltdown is going to be like. O.o
I woke up knowing I have nowhere to be today except parties and it was glorious and I am so happy
I knew deleting his texts was a bad idea and I was right. I just used the last time we talked to help me figure out when I had my last period
A picture of a damn cupcake brought back 3 fuckboys
Life if anyone rolls up to my funeral with shitty weed get them out of there
But at least i made friends with the nice lesbian cop. She knew i was her kind when she had to confiscate my rainbow/pride rolling papers.
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