I saw hookers! I saw hookers! I saw hookers! I saw hookers! I saw hookers! I saw hookers! Live in the flesh!
Ok. In one sink is a hairdrier. Still plugged in. The other is filled with broken glass. What do I do?!
Nvm. Bloody hand trumps dead. Also, where is gauze.
I don't think I can handle being a slut. There is a lot more emotional stress that I never realized.
I just recorded myself pooping, then uploaded to google drive, then connected to my pc through teamviewer then downloaded it, then played it to the living room while still pooping. God I love the internet.
I seriously want to say to him "Do you know how many blow jobs you could have gotten this summer?"
Have you ever just sat there and thought about past penises?
We smoked a blunt in a stall where a drag queen was fucking a bartender in the ass. So theres gonna be a second date :)
His cat watched us the ENTIRE time. Every time I glanced over the poor kitty looked at me as if I were pelvic thrusting her father to death.
He asked me the next morning if he fell asleep inside of me. Drunk is an understatement.
Not now. Out of camp chairs. Carving a new one with a chainsaw. Mushrooms are starting to kick and I gotta get this done NOW.
I need to buy fuckboy repellant for whenever I think it's a good idea to meet boys I found in tinder
In another note. Thanks for making me get a vibrator. For real.
Does your balding hurt less when a 19 year old holds your hand?
learning about efficiency and effectiveness in an administration seminar. real world application: walking across the street to the pub on break to shotgun a beer.
you know you're sexually deprived when you're holding a warm taquito in your hand and your vagina starts to tingle
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