I'm cheering for the colts this year. I basically have to since my fake says i'm from indianapolis
I had to sleep with my math professor to pass algebra. Apparently my blowjobs are only C+ quality
I told him I wanted to have sex to "halleluiah", he suggested the poke-rap.
Just did my hair and make up at mcdonalds so we're in the same boat.
He texted me for drugs this time. Not sex. I dunno if I should be pleased it's not sex or disappointed that I come across as a druggie
Grilled cheese and whiskey for lunch is why i should NEVER be a housewife.
It's okay. My lingerie drawer is skanky enough for the two of us. Even across borders.
Archery is over so let's go back to not giving a fuck for the next 3 years and 11 months
I didn't have toilet paper until 20 minutes ago. But I have champagne. Priorities.
State dependent memory. I just needed to feel my teeth. It was like a fog was lifted.
I'm pretty sure that I drunkenly used the phrase "I just want his beard all over my body" way too many times last night.
I looked into this "it's just lunch" matchmaker thing and it was like 5 grand. If I'm gonna spend five grand I'll throw in another three and get new tits and find my own fucking husband.
Why is there a whip in the kitchen?
90% sure I just opened a snapchat of you in a fuzzy bathrobe next to your ceiling collapsing
For someone who's supposed to be gay Greg is really good at seducing me into things I don't wanna do
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