He smothers me through text. I can't even image what he'd be like in person.
I reached in my backpack to pull out my laptop. I found my bottle of Jack and 2 bottles of Coke. It's going to be a good class.
They call it the Collection Couch because all 4 room mates have slept with at least 3 different girls on it. He tried to seal the deal with "would you like to be number 14?"
And sadly I did.
Just fucked in his moms tanning bed. While it was on. Weirdest. Tan. Ever.
he said i looked like a lion with slutty lingerie on .
i'm not entirely sure that 'not getting kicked out of the bar until it got dark' really classifies as 'doing better'
Currently bleeding through my leggings. Not good. Not good at all.
Hospital.
I am invincible.
You cant carve pumpkins without vodka. It's a Halloween tradition.
If I can't get slightly excited by the thought of his face between my legs then I know I can never sleep with him.
he told me it was nice to see me not blacked out mumbling to myself in the front seat, I told him it was nice to see him not in handcuffs.
Like I feel like I use my high IQ for the wrong things
Nothing like coaching 5 year olds with a bunch of visible bruises from last night's drunk bondage sex.
If we tried baptizing you I feel the water would start boiling around you.
That awkward moment when you are on your way to ICU and the only sympathy gift you can think of is beer and whiskey
My life is a random series of events connected only by bottles of Seagram's 7
Randomize
