Im am drinking whisky alone in my parents basement. I think I just watched the point of no return stroll by.
I just texted him to come over because I want to see if his hand fits the handprint bruise on my ass.....I feel like the cinderella of S&M
in hindsight, $10 Malibu buckets were a terrible idea...
She just said, "are my livers going to die?"
You just kept yelling at the cabby "I own this cab" and insisted on smoking with all the windows up
matt and i tucked you in... you REFUSED to move your head from under the bed.
Did you get any last night. I need to track my forever aloneness
My black heart of coal cannot compete with your boiling crock pot of teddy bears, rainbows, 90s music, and the good candy you get from rich people on Halloween.
But seriously who drew a dick on a tortilla and nailed it to the door?
She pulled up to the bar in a limo, wasted, and alone. Gets out, shrugs and slurs "I couldn't find a cab" and proceeds to take a shot.
I'm in love.
I asked him why the bed was wet and got.."well there are two options... and its not you."
Romantically speaking, I want to sit on his face.
I think this bruise on my arm is actually an impression of your face
I'll do whatever I want when I'm 80.
If you are still alive at 80 I demand a medical explanation.
I collect Covid conspiracy theories like I collect Pokemon.
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