Last night I fell down in the street (I think in someone's vomit), cut my knee up, lost my moms necklace and my license, and had to walk back to the hotel.
After she threw up on my floor she started singing "this is why I'm hot."
I still cannot believe I yelled at every guy at the bar "you wanna get in this clam?!"
Just painted my nails at the bar... I may be getting too comfortable here.
I've decided I'm peeing in a solo cup then throwing it on his windshield. It's official. He called the cops 4 times in our first week at the house. He deserves it, right?
Quesedillas should not make me weep and drinking water should not make me feel like god is giving me mouth to mouth. Never again.
You're welcome to join, but just to warn you, tequila makes my clothes disappear. And I'm telling you that as an adult to an adult, not as your supervising teacher who decides whether or not you graduate.
I woke up to you singing What Makes You Beautiful and trying to blend an avocado with vodka.
But the guy you're fucking should not be within ten pounds of your weight when you're five fucking feet tall and he's 6'2". That's all I'm saying.
I would love a rich wife. Then I would be like a gym teacher or some shit. Bigfoot hunter maybe.
Just got a handjob from a 19 year old in front of the Parthenon. The Greek god of debauchery would be proud.
He snapchated me a photo of his penis with the caption "it needs a home".
It was like the icing on a beautiful fuck boy cake.
My concern for you and peanut butter is the reason I am still awake.
He graduated. He’s not my GA anymore. He’s just the 24 year old that’s helping me put a sexless marriage in the rear view mirror by exploring the Kama sutra with me
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