I want to apologize 3 days in advance for what's about to take place on St. Patrick's day.
Okay. I really need to get out of this guys bed and get home. It's two in the afternoon. He's not even HERE.
That's the saddest description of touching yourself I've heard since someone said "I was just lazily rubbing my clitoris while eating Cheetos alone"
I'm not driving across town for three thrusts and an excuse
I will keep you posted and someday if we daydrink teach you how to do a footjob
Reached a new low last night. Passed out. With my pants down. On the toilet. At ihop. Waitress had to wake me up.
I will expect an hourly check text to confirm you are alive and that you aren't dead in a ditch somewhere with a hobo dry humping your corpse
The worst part was when I went to go spit it out and rinse my mouth, his grandpa was in the bathroom, so I had to fucking wait. It was awful. I finally ran to the kitchen and prayed his parents didn't come out of their room.
One does not fall in love, one falls flat on the their face after leaving a bar
It's like everything I need in life within a five block radius: booze, toilets, dogs, dicks.
I have fence marks all over my body
While he was at a job interview yesterday, I was dropping acid. So that's the aesthetic of our relationship rn.
He played with my nipples while singing "How great thou art"
DO NOT PREHEAT THE OVEN THIS MORNING! WE STARTED USING IT AS A WINE STASH AROUND MIDNIGHT.
Just a typical Friday. Dinner, drinks, doing lines with a member of Congress
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