I would blow Magic Johnson for a pack of lucky strikes right now. Post-hiv.
Her cooch smelled like a combination of bacon and sweat.
And on top of all this... he just told me to "chill my nips."
Well if it makes you feel any better I threw up at Roadhouse. And then on the way to the train. And then in a water fountain. And then in a plastic bag on the train.
he doesn't drink and he's an emt - he'll be our dd for nye in exchange for a threesome tomorrow afternoon.
Legit I think I might have gotten hepatitis C from licking the window of that last cab.
You can't call dibs 8 years later.
Now that there's no chance of him coming over to fuck anymore, I'm going to put up a one-person tent in my bedroom and live in it. My bed reminds me of him.
You told me to ditch them in the park, and when she jumped onto the car to stop us, you told me to scrape her off against a parked Jeep. That drunk.
My tuesday consisted of speaking to a federal agent for two hours and watching a roving band of gypsies jump over a fire until 2:30am
Someone sharpied "COCK HUNGRY" on my butt cheeks last night. When the fuck did I have my ass out?
holy fucking shit get me out of here. even the babies are wearing beanies
I'm just to the point my give a fucks is so far in the red that I'm going to have to take out a 30yr loan of fucks to repay it
It's Christmas. You could splurge on something a LITTLE fancier than wine in a box.
Welp. June's off to a great start. I just ripped my pants, completely sober, at 10:30 p.m.
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