I mean I found and stalk his moms facebook.. that obsessed.
battery dying...get laid and text me after...or during...its whatever.
life is no where near the amusement park it was when I was on Vicodin.
Your like the Mozart of blow jobs, you make every other girl seem like cheesy elevator music.
We need to pull ourselves out of this slump. We need dick and lots of it. We are going to fuck our way to happiness.
Peeing off the roof of a motel lighting a cigar with matches and speaking fluent spanish with a chilen exchange student...how do iget into these situations?
I'm going to smoke the pathetic stems and miscellaneous particles that weren't good enough for all my other bowls because its all I have left. This is my bag's Rudy moment.
For the sake of my mom, I can't sleep with two guys with the same name. She has a hard enough time keeping up as it is
Guess what I'm doing tonight? Tacos and strip chess.
I mean, I introduced myself as "the after party". I think he knew early in the night he was in for a bangathon.
I like how I just yelled in the window at Mcdonalds drive thru, got his number and then fucked. it was like I ordered a happy meal that only can be had after midnight.
i gotta stop hooking up with people just to get to their dogs
You can trust me. I'm unemployed and not wearing pants.
I swear, I make more use of my creative writing major with sexting than I do with anything else
My life is pants optional.
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