The next morning she woke up and asked who I was and where she was.
Trying to find something to do here is like trying to find a vegan resturant in alabama.
It's one of the reasons i'm here, along with emotional support, physical support if you need it, and power orgasms.
I have a ginormous moral hangover. Strip club blues.
Before you even think your day was worse than mine, I had to disinfect and and stitch another dude's penis after his prince Albert got ripped out by an angry chick.
He's gotta be able to drive a truck, make me mac n cheese and give me the best orgasms. That's my perfect man
if memory serves, the guy you were hooking up with said he was a slutty skittle.
So my mind was like YOU ARE TOTALLY GONNA MAKE IT TO CLASS TODAY but then my body was all LOL NO YOU AIN'T.
I mean he did ask and he said it's cold out but i didn't realize we were that comfortable hahaha sex is one thing but borrowing a sweatshirt?
Locking that text forever.
he has a party story that rivals our "PTSD- soldier-with-a-knife" party story. I'm pretty sure this is part of some prophecy.
The only person more miserably hungover from the party is the dog, and that's because he ate some balloons
what the hell makes you think you get to decide what your going to wear at our weding!?
So I told him "To answer your question yes I am naked making pizza pops in your kitchen"
the police dropped me off. that's how my night went.
Tequila should only be paired with the finest of dick
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