I woke up this morning with "guy in polar bear j.crew boxers" written on my stomach along with a 5 digit phone number...
I'm walking down the halls of our hotel and listening for sex noises and knocking when I do.
I really hope our interview with channel 6 last night doesn't air or else my parents are gona get a first hand look at my alcohol problem
Ok, maybe I don't want to know what happened last night... But somehow I guess I moved the oven.
Yeah, I think they knew. I smelled like that telltale combination of strippers and Easter.
all i remember is him tryin to explain to the girls how to effectively hit the strip club with their bfs
hes actually pretty persuasive when he drinks
sex in a tree stand. check.
you lucky bastard
All I want is a guy who will love me and occasionally shave my balls.
I haven't filled him in on Operation "find a sugar daddy & suck dick for money" yet, but I'm sure he just wants me to be happy.
So ive come to the realization that my affinity for tattooed guys makes me the literal definition of tit for tat
i feel like i am made of mashed potatoes. i love cannabis pills so. fucking. much.
Apparently when the cops arrived I was standing over him in the bathroom yelling, get the fuck up you piece of shit. Beer still in hand.
I'm also sorry that I ate your chicken sandwich while you were throwing up....
He was awful. Hubby's was apparently epic. I suck at swinging.
Good, I've got all this booze. It's intimidating to be in the room alone with it..
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