I'm tempted to see how fat I can get before he leaves me. It's obvious we're playing a game of chicken here.
You are colorful like whore, yet adorable, like sad puppy. You need more drink.
Well on the bright side, I only need a sophomore to complete the fuck-a-guy-from-every-year-challenge.
I'm not embarrassed about the lap dance. I'm embarrassed for the singing during.
Went to the wedding reception, and he left with ALL of the brides maids phone numbers. I don't know how he does it either.
I knew you would eventually ask my secret. Pedialite mix drinks. Works wonders.
You were face down in the punch bowl, humming the theme to jaws
That explains the stains on my shirt
I felt like a personal hot pocket and all I could taste was cigarettes.
He hasn't touched a vagina in two and a half years. THIS IS WAY TOO MUCH PRESSURE TO BE UNDER
If waking up at 6 50 pm every day and getting invited to go have sex as you wake up is what alcoholism is like I can get use to this.
Puke-y regrets or just things-seem-far-away regrets?
I'll give you one guess. It has a cock and I want it
isnt it crazy how for years we were living our owns lives, and now only a wall seperates us?
stop. eating. my. shrooms.
you can't just call dibs on my vagina bro.
Cover for me. Stopped at Chris’ for a quickie. Broke a high heel and there’s jizz all over my black dress. Fuck pornstars for making workday sex look easy
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