Please fuck him. And then let me tell her. And then let me protect you from the knife she pulls from her Ed Hardy purse. Please.
I know. They started calling me The Incident. The hotel maids, that is.
I woke him up this morning and said I have a meeting w my advisor in an hour you need to wake up, cum on my face, and take me to my car.
But you have work tomorrow. And a whore to pick up. And a dinner to eat. And a vagina to slaughter. Your day is full!
I appreciate the concept of vaginal slaughtering.
Do you think the neighbors will know I was the one giving out the penis shaped lollipops to the children?
That's like being smoked out by a unicorn. If the opportunity presents itself you fucking do it and don't ask questions.
Every pair of shorts I try on makes me look like some kind of powerful lesbian wizard.
That is like, the point of shorts
Plan: drunk dancing. Reality: drunk almost getting in fights with people that could beat me into the ground.
I NEED YOU HERE TO KNOCK THE MALT BEVERAGES OUT OF MY MOUTH
The shit I just took was my body's way of telling me bourbon and mixed nuts aren't an appropriate dinner. Well played, colon. WELL. PLAYED.
No teenage boy ever gets scared away from sex unless she is slipping a wedding ring on your finger or is killing your cat. I promise.
Hey, if I can't get it and you're still alive, can you get the glass out of my foot? Happy Sunday.
Pizza rolls are incredible. They are like sex, except I have them sometimes
Hahaha perfect. Let's start stopping drinking tomorrow
we woke up when the front wall of the house caught fire.
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