I'm currently googling how to make a dress out of a trash bag. It's going to be a great night.
TIT CHECK! TIT CHECK! ALERT! ALERT!!!!
Apparently he ran around last night saying he was 'the hulk hogan of muff diving'
apparently my insurance doesn't cover road head. Bummer.
Last night he tried to put me in their garbage can and then sprayed me with a fire extinguisher in their kitchen...that house is always interesting
i figure i've seen his cum stains on the floor, i'm allowed to say these things.
He's currently rapping every word to 'more money more problems' at what could be a over 30s gay bar. I'm not sure yet. More info to come.
I made this pact with my vagina, though. No more heartless fuckery.
Just heard the words 'Pussy Riot' on NPR...I almost crashed my car.
I just showered sitting down with a sippy cup of water in there with me. It took 40 minutes. That hungover.
Standing here wondering if its a good idea to cook pork chops in the toaster or not.
He came over last night and as soon as we started having sex Siri announced "you've arrived at your destination." I think it was some kinda sign
Okay, tomorrow we'll have a day of life-sorting and plasma-selling.
I have to make calls today at work. So I'm gonna call your phone and leave some random messages. Just delete them.
will you help me invent vagina-safe pop rocks?
Randomize
