508, what difference does it make? You were alone, anyway.
I cant remeber how long i've been laying here...it could be 10 minutes to a fucking day
Her bacne/racne was so bad it was like having sex with bubble wrap.
idk whats worse playing power hour to yourself, or the fact that you were having fun while doing it
apologized to him about 10 times for being drunk. told him about 15 times that he was "really pretty"
I stuck a note to his door with my gum explaining why i couldn't spend the night. as i was walking away, he opened the door...i fell down and played dead. deffinitly didn't see me.
Did you sleep with Connor? And who undressed me? There's a picture of two guys peeing out my bedroom window. What happened?
somebody put my brain in a crown royal bag and beat the shit out of it
Me, him and the recently stolen carpet walked down the road and into the strip club. We had to check the carpet with our coats, it didn't mind missing out too much, later the door guy at Subway held carpet during late night sandwich selection.
You wrote me a check. For zero dollars. For my soul. Dick.
I snapchatted him nudes and he didn't screenshot a single one of them because he's a gentleman.
conclusion from last night: i should wear boob glitter more often
Can I just say how funny it is that your "respect" tattoo is right above the bruise from me slapping your ass
I wonder how horrible I look to customers. There's cuts all over my face and I can't talk.
What are the cuts from? Head-butting the bathroom light fixture?
Honestly that's best case scenario.
What the fuck dude? Now it's a "who is this?" convo going back and forth. Like... helllloooo you just sent me a picture of your penis! I'm entitled to ask who the fuck it is. I can't verify an identity by a body part.
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