when im not freaking out about dying alone and unloved, i actually really enjoy being single
and I'm going to name my autobiography "blow jobs with enthusiasm are the best"
I'm naming my autobiography "Reasons Not to Date Girls From Texas."
Remind me to tell you the one about the cashier that wouldn't sell me Jim Beam and NyQuil.
I can't remember if the bartender cut you off after you broke your glass or after you wished the bar a happy winter solstice during your karaoke number.
Just put the gallon of milk in the microwave. Dad might know im high.
I mean, once you get beat with a dildo you can't look at someone the same
Just stole a goat. Bringing it to your house to cock block. Blame the goat not me.
Sounds good! I plan on writing a book entitled: I've Probably Done Cocaine In Your Bathroom. A tell-all by Lauren.
I'm going to get pregnant and die... Mean Girls warned me about this but I didn't listen
Based on the time of Sean's "I'm on your street" phone call last night, we had sex for an hour and a half. Man, time flies when you're getting boned to an orgasmic death.
He asked me if my princess crown was real and before I could say yes, he was already reaching to put it on. I'm pretending I'm asleep if he tries to have sex.
It's disgusting. He breathes through his mouth and just sounds fat. Plus he chews all loud and shit.
Ate a live seahorse, then tried to order a nacho bell grande from an ATM.
How the fuck do you get to keep practicing as a Nurse.
Also I told several people at the bar last night that my dad the alligator wrestler died wrestling an alligator. So if anyone asks that's real.
I'm more than my video games and dildo collection
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