So I have to ask... did I meet your lumberjack expectations? I mean, minus the red flannel and all.
I'm totally counting that party when he kept putting his hands down my pants as a date.
he was CRYING into my vagina
I just saw a van full of amish parents and their kids. Those cheating mother fuckers!
It was everywhere, it looked like he just took the leftovers and threw them around the bathroom... Festively...
it's not like i was drunk to the point of NEEDING help...i just wanted someone to offer to hold my hair or something.
You have to keep an eye on her tonight cause you know how she likes to pickpocket people when she's drunk.
At second job interview this week. Wearing pants to hide pole dancing bruises. This my life.
Nothing quite like pre-gaming the Kentucky Derby with adderall and adderall. I'm fairly confident I could outrun all of these fucking horses in a foot race right now.
Hey, please tell me that you and dad are having actual steaks tonight and I did not just get sexted by my dad
i’m not very adjusted to having free time. for example, I forgot how much fun it is to masturbate.
I am gathering blankets and bags of horse grain to pad my truck bed so I have a comfy place to crash when I get home, without the inconvenience of stairs. Or doors. Or walking. But with the refreshing scent of molasses.
His water bottle is sitting on my coffee table like a monolith dedicated to the things he is not doing to my vagina.
He was very considerate of my needs, he offered me pizza before and after.
I just realized I'm not wearing clothes. I think my pants may be in the kitchen but I have no idea where my shirt is. I'm kinda worried.
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