its like playing clue every morning after we party. she did him in the kitchen with..oh god.
I need ur penis! This is not drunk texting, either! This is I need ur penis texting. There IS a difference!
I have a plus one for the Blackout Express, should I pen in your name?
Meet me at the corner of "what the fuck" and"how'd you get in my bed" in 10 minutes.
I would rather deep fry my own cock while it's still attached to me than have his life.
I'll be visiting the rave tower. Prepare your finest boxed wines for my consumption.
I feel like im becoming the girl who only drunk texts him. I would be in the dog house, if situations like this had dog houses.
You're wearing a hospital gown and pearls. Let's reevaluate your life.
So apparently there is enough alcohol to get me to agree to going to a strip club, but when I have enough they don't let me in.
The fact that I bookended my summer with pregnancy scares doesn't upset me. The fact that he's a trombone major does...
I can empathize with sociopaths, serial killers, demons, gods, and monsters....straight white males are literally the only barrier to my 100% empathy rate. I don't get it.
God doesn't care if you're a paramedic, you can't do that to someones cat and still get into heaven
I just woke up with a pair of handcuffs in my pants, can u explain this?
He wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit him on the ass. Which, btw, I did.
He's a security blanket. A security blanket who FUCKS.
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