He only uses me for sexual pleasure. The sad part is I don't even feel like a slut. I just I feel like I should just live in the top drawer of his nightstand....for free of course.
I took chris brown's side in the conversation ... cut to me not getting laid tonight
writing the newer testament. It's the 3rd for the series. I'll update u the rule changes later.
I couldn't walk, so he carried me all the way home; and then I told him that I wasn't drunk enough to fuck him. Poor kid.
when did my "fat clothes" just become my clothes...diet starts tomorrow
I don't know. I woke up in the back of a cab in a drive thru line at whataburger with police lights flashing and my friend yelling" you didn't have to sell us out phil!" to the cab driver.
I think the pivotal moment was when we used the see and say as a drinking game with shots of whiskey. It was all downhill after that.
I offered to buy ihop waffles for all the homeless people outside the metro. It was time to go to bed.
he pulled a $400 bottle of champagne out of the back part of his toiled and I was ready to blow him then and there
you left saying you wanted to "go piss on that girl's doorstep" and we didn't see you the rest of the night
that actually explains a lot
future reference: when you get a text that says "WARNING: EXPLICIT PHOTOS BEING DELIVERED. VIEWERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED." you always open the attached picture.
I'm trying to puke quietly so i don't ruin my grandma's birthday/my graduation brunch. And you say i need to grow up.
Only you can make me eat tacos in your car, while naked, on a dead end road in a ditch on a Thursday night.
I know. I'm a saint. Saint of sitting on faces.
It's a shame things ended how they did. We were well on our way to transforming from acquaintances with benefits to friends with benefits.
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