just cut a line with my blood donor card...i feel like it will help remind me that i was once a productive member of society.
My hand is eating my burrito and not saving any for my mouth. TRIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPINN!
He gave me a promise ring. He promised that he will imagine me as every girl he fucks in college.
there are 5 pictures on my phone from last night, 4 are too blurry to recognize and the 5th is you dangling a twizzler over your mouth, naked.
I just melted my phone trying to make cookies. I think that's a sign.
Between my vag yelling at me for having bad sex and my legs yelling at me for going to the gym I cant hear myself think.
Life isn't about who you kiss, drunk, at midnight. It's who you text nonsense to, sober, from the toilet.
I almost tried texting you with my pipe. Holy fuck this is good shit.
You looked at me, said I was a nice guy. Then you drunkenly climbed on top of me and said you liked me and wanted me.
The impact your presence has on my vagina without even putting your hands on me is quite astonishing, impressive and a little disturbing.
Hypothetically speaking - is it bad if you get cut off at an airport bar at 11:30am?
So the tow truck driver didn't charge us because Ian convinced him that he was sent out by God to share his cocaine with us.
I'm going to be such a slut in Europe I've already decided
Send me dick pics. We'll make a scrap book
I'm too hungover to Google him and try to save face.
His dick smelled like strawberries...it was awesome.
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