Hindsight: maybe I should have included a few transitional texts in between talking about your son and my need to have sex. Do over?
yeah that always happens. i'm like the where's waldo of parties. i never even know where the fuck i'm at.
no, i remember trying to staple my nipples together. I just can't figure out where the hell stapler came from.
I should probably go to bed before I start to care about why I started drinking in the first place.
What I'm trying to say is, that time you chained me to my dresser and made me beg for it was incredibly romantic.
I just made a cocktail. Had one shot of vodka left. It looked lonely so I decided to reunite it with its vodka friends in my bloodstream.
Starting the day at 1:44 in the afternoon. With a hot pocket and a mixer. Who knew my life had this kind of possibility.
I dreamt of sea otters and your boobs. My two favorite things.
Yes. That was the exact moment of my conscience clicking into instant high alert.
We just stood there eating chocolate chip pancakes, watching you sleep on the bathroom floor.
You don't know reunion panic until you've exfoliated your butt cheeks.
I made him fuck me with my coat zipped up and a unicorn mask on. That level of drunk sex. Weird and creepy yet highly satisfying.
Does the term "on fleek" apply to dicks or just eyebrows?
He sent me a picture of his cock that seemed to indicate that we were still on good terms.
Only thing I have going for me is jacking off, weed, and saturdays
My brain is like a TV with 10 channels, 9 of them are static and the other one just plays that one Nagito Komaeda edit on loop 24/7
Randomize
