he confessed his love for me, threw up on my pillow and then fell asleep on said pillow. i met him last night.
better than last weekend. things are really looking up for you.
Can you really blame Steve Phillips? He went to Michigan. Plowing fat girls is a 100-level course there.
He used his penis as a puppet and sang Rihanna's Hard..... so no, we will never see each other again.
He's afraid of heights. How do I know, you ask? Blowjob on his roof.
he gifted me a vibrator as he was breaking up with me. you tell me how my night went
Is it bad that I don't ask for names anymore? Just added "gold-chain-wearing hotel guy" to my list under "minivan 3way" and "funny-tasting gym guy."
The real reason I can't work: it's Tuesday. I get stoned and watch Buck Rodgers on Tuesday.
Nothing says "future AA member" like bonging 40's out of a plastic flamingo.
From now on, you must never doubt my ability to go from drunken rambling lovesick girl to Stepford wife within the course of a few hours.
I lost half a toenail and didn't realize it. Bloody shoe shoulda been a clue.
I can not be a lesbian living on Beaverland.
Well... This is my last night at the resort. So far, the only thing that has been in my vagina is sand.
Bacon and your penis are involved. Of course I'm going over.
I fucked her with a giant balloon tied to my dick. You tell ME how my night went
YOU'RE NOT THE ONE BEING EVISCERATED BY YOUR OWN UTERUS SO GET SOME DAMN SLEEP YOU FOOL!
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