So the D.A.R.E. essay I helped my tutor kid write won an award. Oh the irony.
I don't remember coming home but there is cereal EVERYWHERE
"Tuesday" and "open-bar" shouldn't be used in the same sentence.
I think Charlie st. Cloud is the saddest thing I can masturbate to.
He came in my nose, then said it would help clear my sinuses.
Thank God I didn't lose my virginity to that asshole. That woulda been like winnin a raffle ticket for a free bag of dog shit. But with like a really pretty bag. A pretty bag full of dog shit.
The leasing office is hiring, so I gave them my resume and class schedule. I doubt they'll call me considering last summer at their "exotic animal" pool party I marched in with a funnel and demanded the employees chug. I doubt they've forgotten.
I told him that he was essentially a very life-like dildo with a person attached so he needed to stop having feelings because it was getting annoying. He agreed.
At least I look tastefully trashed. My nipples are hidden and I'm standing up.
I'm going on a new diet. It's called the "eat healthy otherwise boys won't want to have sex with your fat ass" diet. Wish me luck.
I don't see how you can turn down creme brulee and orgasms
A man in a black on black escalade pulled up next to me, and told me he was sent to pick me up by you.
His name is Tyreece. He will take you to the weed emporium, population me.
Jungle juice turns everything into a pickup line. All I said was "do you play chess" and somehow I got laid.
She gave me a job then fed me cheesecake in bed. She's a keeper!
At one point she put on my dads pants and yelled after him EMILIOOOO! Dude, my dads name is Mark.
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