It's my fault I'm alone. My closest relationship is with my blackberry....thank god it vibrates.
Fuck morning classes. Fuck early work. Fuck anything in the morning that doesn't involve sleeping, sex or bacon.
Her boobs are too amazing to be looking at my dick. I'm even ashamed.
It'd be like medium rare by now.
I love how we're talking about your vagina like it's a piece of meat.
I would also like to inform you that I can no longer lay on my back because my tailbone is bruised from the nightstand. Good job.
We waited til after. Not even drunk sex felt right during a Disney movie.
Still can't decide which I'm more disappointed about: the blow job I gave him or the donuts I ate after.
What can I say, I'm a giver.
Smoking up the homeless at 3am does not make you a humanitarian.
Listen I'm a sentimental character under all this alcohol and ratchetry
I'm so incredibly high right now the fact I am texting is nothing short of miraculous. Call the Pope. Hell make me Saint Roy, patron of stoners.
Please don't judge me for my hormonal purchase, judge me for my awesome rack.
It was 6am and he went immediately for the 69. WTF?? 6am is WAY to early for acrobatics.
Listen here, Ms. "I'm Gonna Get Super Drunk and Run From My Friends Screaming That They Were Going to Drag Her to a Scientology Recruitment Camp"...
I need an outfit for the bar tmrw that reads I have daddy issues and would like a fancy sugar daddy.
Things could not have gone more poorly if I had stripped naked and run through the Sahara with sirloins tied to my vagina.
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