i should write a book entitled 'the joys of being sexually objectified'
I'm sweating while I eat mac and cheese. That fat.
It felt like getting blasted with a supersoaker filled with vagina juice.
The bartender from Thursday remembered me... And gave me a FLAMING BUCKET of alcohol.
Now that there's no chance of him coming over to fuck anymore, I'm going to put up a one-person tent in my bedroom and live in it. My bed reminds me of him.
he has decreed that i can sleep with anyone who has the same name as him. line up all the toms
He's only going to be gone for two weeks
That's two months in gay whore years.
Dad and I are shitfaced screaming at Canadians in Walmart. Life is good.
Perhaps if I didn't mortify my parents last night with my drunken obnoxious behavior which resulted in the casualty of an entire decorative bathroom shelf which I completely ripped off the wall and left for dead, I would be more than willing to go day drinking.
But I'm currently thinking of all my bad decision making last night and giving myself a time out.
He was so high he started playing Twister on the striped rug. Then when we missed midnight he went on a screaming rampage about his New Year's Eve being meaningless. How do you think it went?
just woke up with nickles taped to my body. theres like a dollar worth.
He said my vagina smelled like pomegranates. Its like my vagina is the fountain of youth.
how is it I left wearing underwear then ended up with none? and why is it they are on you?
I went with vodka instead of tequila tonight so I make better decisions. Fool proof plan.
Randomize
