That fat broad you banged out last night is still here and I can hear her snoring through the living room wall. I would leave, but I don't want to come home to an empty fridge.
I love how you send me nude pics of girls you're fucking and name them by which city they're in instead of their name. "This is Nashville, this is Tupelo, this is Jackson..."
and honestly a story about how you met your future husband that DOESN'T include the words "creeped him on facebook" is really not a story worth sharing
Softest bathroom rug I've slept on in my life, there have been many
No hurry on coming over. My body currently wants everything on the inside to be on the outside. But really. Don't hurry.
I walked into the bathroom of the hotel and she's in the bath tub with a guy she met a day ago. They were sharing a shrimp cocktail platter and shot gunning bud lights. Oh and it was noon.
That bar is one yeast infection away from total annihilation.
Sorry for all the texts. I got wasted and woke up at the foot of a staircase. From what I can gather, I fell down it.
I GOOGLED IT. BEES CAN MASTURBATE. WHAT.
I mean metaphorically speaking, maybe we've all fucked on top of a frat house at some point in our lives
you should never start the day with a boob text. It can only go downhill from there
I had a dream last night that Sam and Dean had to get rid of a murderous ghost haunting an elf on the shelf. I think I'm ready for Christmas to be over.
Just set the kids up with doughnuts downstairs so I could go up and masturbate uninterrupted. I am such a good mom.
I am a unicorn in a field of flowers, you asshole.
scale of one to ten how loathsome is it to save my chocolate easter bunny to use for a topping on my edibles
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