This is getting serious. I keep forgetting what's in my vagina.
Life lesson: Don't give a drunk girl a dutch oven after having taco bell. She puked all over my pillow. Funny as hell though.
so he made me dinner last pm @whch point i askd if i could help out. he hands me his fucking laundry and asks me 2 do it
only you. it could only happen to you.
Clearly, I'm already going to hell, so there's no point in trying anymore.
i dont know, i woke up and he was going down on me. i guess i can save his number
All I know is for some reason I was sitting naked in the hallway playing an invisible ukulele singing somewhere over the rainbow. I wonder why security came.
How long does it take to cook a corndog over a candle?
Why is there a blood-covered "sorry about your stuff" note stapled to my door?
I feel like I've been hit by a truck, flew up and landed on a fence post that went straight through my vagina. No more vodka and sex for a while.
This amicable friendliness is dull. We either need to start fighting or fucking around. I'll even let you pick.
It's simple. He fucks me at his place and I fuck him at my place. It's like man of the house gets to top.
I've been sleeping with the same person for about two months now, I think I know a little bit about stability and commitment.
Uhhh...I just found your 10 dollar bill in my bra. I owe you 10 dollars.
WE JUST PASSED A FUCKING SPACE SHIP! NOT JOKING! A REAL FUCKING SPACE SHIP! THIS IS NOT THE DRUGS! SPACE! SHIP!
You followed me up the stairs while i was throwing up yelling "projectile! projectile! projectile!"
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