Grinding on my ninth grade teacher. Dreams really do come true
She rode me to the beat of Baby Got Back. I swear to god.
the russians are downstairs with the vodka loudly proclaiming happy birthday america. i don't care if it's the fourth, i care that it's 9 am and they woke me up.
There are only families here. I'm at the bar alone double fisting drinks. You cannot get any more approachable than I am now.
He showed me one of his balls and said "this one's free. you'll have to work to see the other.."
My contribution to the dinner party was a bottle of vodka and a bag of uncooked potatoes. I felt like a Russian serf.
I don't know which is worse, the fact that he can say will you fuck me in so many languages or that I'm turned on because of that
You pulled out a fucking recorder and started playing along with all the songs on your playlist and refused to hit the j
I'm not having the "why are your fucking my daughter" talk and the "your a drug addict" talk with your mom tonight.
Also, beer. Big fan.
I don't know what happened this summer, I've lost my sense of morality. All I do now is work, get drunk, and have sex near national landmarks.
so much tequila, so little girl.
moral of my life: don't tell a guy you want to have sex with him. he'll get back together with his ex.
You hit your head and proceeded to fall in the floor, curl up in my lap and make me rock you like a small infant. I was beginning to worry until you started to sing "Rock me momma like a wagon wheel".
when I finally convinced you to get off the floor you looked at me wild-eyed and said "the carpet was a VAST EXPANSE OF SEA"
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