So I have to ask... did I meet your lumberjack expectations? I mean, minus the red flannel and all.
It smelt so bad when i tried biting off her underwear that i didn't want to touch with my mouth
I'm totally counting that party when he kept putting his hands down my pants as a date.
Why is there not a 'day after acid' genre. Or even a pandora station or something.
Being the only sober one.. I had to feed you guys doritos. You kept licking my fingers.
I may be a little fuzzy on this, but I think at some point I said something about being a generous lover.
i just remember doing it on a pile of clothes while i heard the muffled sound of his friend laughing. then i realized we were in a closet.
You ass. You're not the one who bought me flowers, so obviously you will not be the recipient of the blow job of gratitude.
Yea i think drunk-me kept all my bar receipts, just to throw it in sober-me's face.
My mom is lecturing me about 'invaluable housekeeping skills' while I google 'cocktails involving gin' on my phone. I can feel the generational gap looming in her silent judgment of my choices.
somehow I feel like "adventures with cocaine and molly" wouldn't be an appropriate "How I Spent My Spring Break" essay topic.
I bought new panties to console myself ... you know, because I am going to lose my ovaries. Well, if I don't die of a heart attack first. But at least when the EMS folks find me, I'll be finely dressed from the waist down.
Well I'm over here squandering a fabulous hair day and radiant complexion
It figures that the only time one of my videos on Snapchat gets replayed is a video of my Hedonism Bot impression and NOT my nudes
I have dined. Now I want to get fucked.
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