if i hear one more christmas song, i will fucking shoot myself.
Dude. No way. She insults the term butterface. She's a butternothing.
The last memory I have is vomiting into a box and her rubbing my back saying "you are such a trooper..."
Don't freak out about the couches in the driveway. We tried to unpack the uhaul drunk.
i wasn't about to bring her gummy handcuffs to her father's funeral
Decided to go explore a half built apartment complex at 4 a.m and leave a 3 block obstacle course in the alley ways on the way home.
Believe it or not I'm actually not the only person sitting in the back of the train covered in glitter and drinking whiskey out of an arizona iced tea can. Small world.
I'm driving up the street and can't tell if my ears are actually about to pop or not.
A solid 8.5 on the baked meter, I need to stop.
If I ever write a book, i'm calling it "why do i work with fucktards?"
It'll be a good sequel to my other book, "why do i sleep with fucktards?"
and i'm going to kill you for what you did to my nipples last night. of course i want to hang out
bah. we'll see. don't give yourself a boner of false hope.
I know you're asleep, but I just had a motherfucking epiphany.
So lets not base feelings on vagina tingles
Omg my orgasm just made the fucking sun come out. Clearly my libido controls the weather now.
Shhh embrace your inner whore. Just embrace it.
Randomize
