I ate one of your animal crackers. just one. ok four. but no frosting. ok frosting.
I twisted my ankle last night doing a super high five with 3 inch heels on.
if i hear one more christmas song, i will fucking shoot myself.
He passed out while I was riding him, and just when I was about to call it quits he opens his eyes and squeezes my boobs and goes Honk! Honk!
Jesus Christ, she just started playing Enya and is humming along to it. Way, way, way too hungover to deal with her shitty taste in music
i'm surprised you didn't wake up. like i literally came when he was fingering me as i was spooning with you and all you did was mumble "that's a good idea, mom" and pull the sheets away from me.
she was stripping to whiskey lullaby. most depressed boner.
At one point in time, he cried and said I didn't appreciate him.
I think being an adult is being able to say no to free shots...I need to work on that.
you don't know true fear until you are a convinced that velociraptors are trying to kill you through your roof.
151 hangover. Need apocalypse.
then I ended up getting a lapdance from my TA...I love college.
Fuck. I did it again. I plugged in my toaster and walked away thinking it needed to preheat. I am dumb.
There are twenty eight units in that building. There has to be at least one heterosexual in it. You can't have fucked your way through all of it.
This whole thing is fucking bullshit. I should be wasting all my hard-earned money at Planet Con this weekend but NOOOOOOOOO. Now I'll never get Roy Thomas to sign my comic
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