Ways to know you did something wrong: you sugar-coated it for your therapist.
Just crushed a xanax into my chewing gum. Its gonna be a long, fucking up flight...
All I remember is him trying to go down on me, but I guess I was too busy making out with his brother
blah blah blah they called me an alcoholic because I threw my beer at a Jesus freak. it was for the best
got high to the hills theme song. FEEL THE RAIN ON YOUR SKIN. no regrets.
I'm eating my emotions. I am no longer interested in anybody other than my own hand and vagina.
Why the hell did you invite him? He's gonna bring two more inches of dick and zero fun.
Is it weird that I Facebook creep hot people from their credit card receipts?
Being single for so long makes me fucking creepy.
I do NOT want to date a man who has no interest in going to a kangaroo farm
The only person who DOESN'T think it's a horrible idea to sleep with my ex is my therapist. Obviously I trust her judgement above all others.
However, you did manage to order seven different drinks while fingering her at the packed bar - it was like watching the pizza men pound the dough in the windows
I should probably just LinkedIn request everyone I've ever slept with so they stop popping up on my suggested connections list
Its not something you can force it it just has to happen like a rainbow or pooping
I'll text you tomorrow when I'm not in someone's torture cave if I don't by noon call for help.
I think the heterosexuals across the hall are negotiating about breeding. How do I figure out which one is against it and back them up?
Randomize
