By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
I want to apologize 3 days in advance for what's about to take place on St. Patrick's day.
I had his cock in my mouth and he still wouldn't shut up about Star Wars.
My broken door handle makes it really inconvient for when i need to puke at red lights.
He held me the entire night. Not endearing kind of way. Like kidnapping or held hostage kind of way.
Im calling him
was mistake calling. If you drunk dial someone you deserve to choke on a tubesock. Take the advice. Always remember
Apparently getting dressed is an all-day activity.
It's a lost cause. Soon she's gonna get naked, just let nature run its course
I'm in that weird half-dead, half fucked-simultaneously-in-every-orifice-by-a-bus-and-it-wasn't-a-good-time state.
Neither of us have work tomorrow and we live w/n walking distance. This is your official Sandy booty call. Come rock me like a hurricane.
Yo if you blacked out last night, careful going through your purse. There's cocaine in a lollipop wrapper.
Stop calling him just to say, "my vagina misses you."
He wants to buy us a microwave. Clearly the man is going to fix my life.
Do you know anyone else that comes home with unexplainable injuries as many nights a week as we do?
Please explain the hospital band on my wrist.
Randomize
