I'm at some bar in brklyn... just made out with a guy named Owen.
He is a pre-school teacher... just sang me a song about weather.
Why did I wake up this morning with 10 tally marks on my hand and a penis drawn on my tits?
You should have seen the look on the cashiers face when I was buying steel reserve with a suit on.
Well, I guess that settles the question of how thick the walls are in my building.
Did you ever get our sex tape out of the rental car before you returned it?
Standards? I'm sitting on his couch eating microwaved ramen wearing his wife's t-shirt. I don't remember what having standards even feels like.
Better than road-head. Just got model-home-head. Also got a disapproving scowl of judgment from the realtor on the way out.
The hot guy sitting next to me in the lib is reading a book called "Impersonal sex in public places." How wrong would it be to give him my number when I bounce?
There's puke on my pillow. I'm still wearing my wedges. And I have a cab drivers number clutched in my fist.
If I die young bury me in satin. And make sure there's a taco bar at my funeral.
I just want to fall into a pit of xannies and eat my way out.
We can't shop at Hobby Lobby anymore. They don't like Plan B which basically runs through our veins.
No instead we fucked in the elevator.. it was wrong on so many levels..
How tall was the building? Maybe it was only wrong on some of them
I would give away three of my own ribs to be able to eat myself out.
...ew
We were talking about kinky shit, and I suggested a hand job in church.
How'd that go over?
Praise the lord and pass the lotion.
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