I just counted my steps so I know when you start looking for you on my way back from the bathroom
You know how us drunks love counting steps
There is somethin about your sexuality that makes my dick do jumping jacks when I see you
Still burping lighter fluid. Totally awful.
I just sat there and watched paula deen's face melt for an hour.
I feel like somebody took my brain out. Stomped on it with cleats. And then put it back together with a glue stick. Thank you.
And on the subject of embracing my inner whore, I had two different dicks in my mouth yesterday. Friend, it's official. I'm completely outta control.
Oh, I never thought you were a dick. You were one of the best morally comprised ideas I've ever had.
The drag queen we did coke with is going to be on Ru Paul's drag race. I feel so proud.
I am gathering blankets and bags of horse grain to pad my truck bed so I have a comfy place to crash when I get home, without the inconvenience of stairs. Or doors. Or walking. But with the refreshing scent of molasses.
You know I think I am ok with him not moving in yet. He came over, fixed my closet, ate me out, and left. I'm now in sweats drinking coke and rum and watching new girl. This works for me.
I just quit my job so I could get dick this weekend. I'm pretty sure my need for dick is much more important than the customers' needs.
I just used a thesaurus to write a sext...
She's going to be the first to die of too much illness. Not even super bad stuff like cancer but like for having a cold at the same time as a sore throat and chlamydia or something. Just too much diseases.
I think I'm destined to be the stoner version of one of those successful but emotionally unavailable characters Sandra Bullock always plays in movies
I think he may actually care that I call him slampiece instead of his real name. Who knew he had feelings?
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