We found an eightball on the ground last night. I mean, really, who does that?
Jesus knows you're telling a lie.
Jesus stopped reading my text messages when I started drunk texting boys to hookup
Standing here next to my mom talking to my friend trying to act like he doesn't sell me E every weekend.
He seems like he has feelings, which is completely unacceptable; esp for a boy in college.
Sunburnt clitoris. How do I deal with it.
The bartender just started bringing me gin and tonic in a pint glass to save himself trips...
Watching water boil has never been so amazing. I love wake-and-bakes.
If we ever start off with margaritas for breakfast and end up naked covered in olive oil...I could think of worse ways to spend a day.
I rocked my own world, he was just a prop.
Our apt smells like hot shit marinated in oregano and cumin. No more taco truck dinner, fuck face. The wall paper is peeling.
So I have to send you an email about my weekend, heretofore referred to as The Perfect Weekend. Wherein I have lots of awesome sex with a guy with THE MOST AMAZING BODY.
I look forward to this email. I will respond with, Condoms and Creepers: The Adventures of Online Dating.
Lets just say...I plan on being a bigger shitshow than Miley Cyrus at the VMA'S
5 minutes Isn't even long enough to bring me even close to an orgasm. How selfish. Think about baseball and fuck me you idiot.
Stoned. Scared. Bring pool noodle and onion rings.
We just finished having sex and as soon as we get out of bed he yells "trust fall" and runs me over
Randomize
