my house keeper must think I'm a prostitute.
the only difference between me and a prostitute was that i complained a lot more.
walked right past julianne moore (on her walk of shame this morning) god i love new york. :)
I just want to go some place where I can have a nice night. Grind on men who speak no English, make out with a girl, and not feel judged.
So apparently after he gets hammered, falls down a set of stairs and gets a concussion, he can still come home and find a way to play his guitar solo bullshit as loud as possible while i seduce my date...
You threw up? Were you ladylike while you did it? I'm wagering that you were. Like a Disney princess. Like a "Puke Me Pretty" Barbie.
Sex-sore abs and my workout pants have gravel stains on the knees. It's like the workout of shame.
It's been this way for a few days. I had chick fil a on Friday so this could be an attack from the Gay Gods as punishment.
Was she always missing a tooth or am I just now noticing it?
When everyone ask you tomorrow go ahead and tell them I'm the girl that fell of safe ride and was all bloody.
You're not drunk til you wake your roommates up screaming at your ceiling fan
I think I swiped left on my soulmate
unless you want this visit to have a different tone... more romantic, less molly in a hotel room
He dropped some cash when he got in my front seat upside down. And a hat. I'm keeping them as retribution for not remembering that he had sex with me once before. Although, if he didn't have his dick pierced, I wouldn't have remembered either.
My dad is sitting where you rode me
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