I need to shower the guilt off of my thighs.
as it turns out, there is no "i was in the pool" excuse for adderall-induced shrinkage.
No flamethrowers. That is a direct order.
Spent the entire ride home from downtown trying to convince designated dawgs to drop us off at waffle house instead of our apartment. i told them it was my house...they didn't buy it.
My lips are red and swollen. Solid proof that giving head is a viable alternative to lipstick and plumper.
I gave up trying to understand them years ago. Now I'm just trying to fuck them.
I'm eating my emotions. I am no longer interested in anybody other than my own hand and vagina.
I think my boss gives me work off weekends because he doesn't want me showing up hungover anymore..
Yeah I was thinking something along the lines of "I almost died, lets celebrate with sex. Come over"
someone just got arrested on campus...
holy fuck look at all that cocaine
We can't shop at Hobby Lobby anymore. They don't like Plan B which basically runs through our veins.
not that i'm not about exploiting men for money
The last thing I need is a possessed urethra.
I just named someones junk. I should not be allowed to talk to people.
Obviously you're feeling a little sexually frustrated.
I consider humping a stranger every ten minutes when I walk in the street.
Randomize