we're at the bar and some girl dropped a bottle of burnettes strawberry vodka out of her purse and it broke.
i mean, if that's not class, then i don't know what is
so he tried marking my clit with a sharpie so he could "find it again next time".
The extent of my physical activity is running from the cops.
My body is being held together with whiskey, nicotine, duct tape and a little bit of hope...
it felt like i was a kid in an empty playground. i fucked him on every piece of furniture in the house and then when his housemates showed up i was naked in his bed like i'd been there all along.
The problem with that is that my car has been stolen
I am tired of banking on my penis size to overcome my lack of game.
I'm taking ecstasy it's gonna be that kind of Vegas trip
Lol. I get my husbands paycheck every week. Immediate deposit into my purse next to his balls.
Discovery: there is a folder in my pictures labeled "Your Name and cats"
I'm hoarding IKEA meatballs in my purse
he asked me where I was going to school, and then we started having sex, and I answered his question forty five minutes later after we were done. It was the chilliest thing ever.
I threw up in the shower. I cleaned it all up and there is on mess at all. This hangover has become borderline religous. Powerful and life changing.
Actually we have similar relationship styles aka no relationship... it could work
wyd
Laying here debating on if i want a sandwich or an orgasm.
Randomize
