I'm someone's dream girl. I'm hungover in this guy's bed wearing ONLY a Brian Westbrook jersey. Not the same I was on a date with last night.
she was pooping while we were on video chat. new level of love.
You're getting a blowjob this afternoon. This has been your morning public service announcement.
We haven't said piping hot jizz in awhile... that needs to come back into our conversations
He only had napkins in the bathroom... no toilet paper. If I fuck him, am I settling?
I have no idea. But that is beside the point bc in vegas I'm a pro vball player from Ireland and a veterinarian on the weekends
Wake up. We're going shopping for booze and samurai swords.
My taste buds are fucked up, everything tastes like fire after last night.
I feel like the fact that I slept with someone who dresses up like Batman a few times will never be lived down.
Have you ever felt like autocorrect is judging you with its suggested words? Like how it won't suggest certain words until you type in pretty much the entire word, is it just thinking 'No way did this dude use "consent laws" in the same sentence as "17th?" Or is that just me.
So... remember when you threw an orange in the closet when we were 16 to make wine? Just found it. Not wine.
There is maybe 10 hours out of any given day we aren't sober.
I had to try on three different bathing suits to hide my boob hickies
Still, being medically ordered to stuff things in your vagina is amazing.
I woke up in his closet, with my shirt inside out and backwards, Rolos in my hand, a tortilla with a face carved into it stuck to the fridge with a magnet, a homemade bong next to the bed, and the door off the hinges... I need a chaperone.
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