You should ask if we are margaritasing tomorrow. and yes i did just turn that into a verb
I believe some people would call last night an orgy.
he asked me for a gerbil feeder full of alcohol
Seriously, I was a high class hooker. I was snorting shit Rachel, white powder, lines formed with credit cards, the dudes house was beautiful. Magnum condom. Adorable puppy dog. Pretty sure at some point I was sleeping on a washing machine. Boxing Gloves.
Those were the highlights of my night.
When are you not under some influence?
Since last Tuesday...yesterday.
You'd be surprised at the stuff my vagina tells my brain to say
I'm going to have to start playing roller derby again so I can blame my sex-related bruises on that.
my vagina can't take this anxiety. there is no way he is 19 and this smooth. he's lying about his age or he's a goddamn sexual prodigy
I woke up with a stapler in my ass. Don't even complain to me.
I was dancing with a blow torch in one hand and a bowl of weed in the other
I think I just wanna go buy some jack at the liquor store, come home, take my pants off, and not give a shit about stuff
I'm constantly crying, and now I start crying every time I masturbate which is a fun development.
Left Las Vegas at 2:30 am, woke up at 11 AM at a Barstow gas station with the Valet from Ceaser' palace snoring in the backseat and no memory of how we got there. I felt like Raoul Fucjing Duke right then and there.
You tried to pick a fight with a polka band saying that you'd wrap the accordion around their throats
I THINK HE DOES. OMG!!!!! OMG I FUCKED A GUY W A FAKE LEG AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW!!!!!!????!!!!!!!!!
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