Text. Mid BJ. 8 points.
What did we do last night that was yellow?
Apparently I called 911 everytime Sean Kingston told me to
He only uses me for sexual pleasure. The sad part is I don't even feel like a slut. I just I feel like I should just live in the top drawer of his nightstand....for free of course.
A hangover is a type of food poisoning. Makes me feel better about calling out of work.
I'm about to pick up E from underneath a random doormat.......how is this remotely normal?
So I'm trying to figure out if starting the day running around the quad in a black t-shirt and bikini w/ a drawn on mustache is a good way to start the day...
Also. After puking outside of the bar last night, some guy (who saw me puking) said I looked like Jennifer Lawrence, called me J Law, got my number and is now texting me. Who knew puking and rallying would do me any good
i asked him to talk to me in french while we fucked and halfway through i caught the word 'lasagna'. turns out he was making his grocery list.....i asked him to keep going.
Positive reinforcement! I'm training him for being a good boy and coming over. He gets sex and cookies.
I ask him how he's going, like life and stuff, and he responds "20-0 pats"
I thought the dude was just really enjoying his piss but apparently he was jerkin off into the urinal.
I'm a mess. I mean I almost got off but I'm a fucking rubics cube down there so il givenhim the point
I woke up with pitch black feet and crushed doritos around my mouth. That's how I determined how my night went
Lighting a fucking bong with a candle. Straight up dedication.
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