And then I have a slight inkling that I went up to the bar and tried to order the bartender.
i think i should save myself the $200 for a prom dress. i mean why bother. its just going to be covered in vodka/jizz/and puke by the end of the night.
I remember desperately screaming that I love my life and running in zig zags all the way home
First of all, I don't like eggnog. Second of all too much rum is all bad. And thirdly I'm not there to sit in your lap and pretend you are Santa and I've been a bad girl.
If I give you a key to my place you have to promise to one day wake me up with a blowjob.
And by one day I mean once every two weeks.
That place is a DUI and an STD waiting to happen. I think I'll pass.
Apparently this is my life now. Fucking men in their 30s with small dogs.
I'm just waiting for the avalanche of beef.
I know it's like I wanna bring somebody fun who I haven't drunkenly expressed my feelings for. Or hooked up with. It's a struggle.
Do you remember making out with the dude in the back of my cab last night?? You said his mustache tickled your tongue.
I smelled him yesterday and almost relapsed he's like cocaine
Specially since he wanted to forget that we even touched, which makes it funnier because I don't think you can take back licking someone's butthole...
I'm not winning any crowns in the Miss Emotionally Stable pageant either...
this potential sugar daddy just sent me a photo of him butt naked in the woods saying he wants to "grow our spirits together." so i think i found us a new drug dealer!
We met behind our asshole boss's back with the intent to oust him from the company. If this revolution is a success, bring nachoes.
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