So I went on a date with this girl...and whos our waitress? My girlfriend got a second job she didn't tell me about to afford my bday present.
He only uses me for sexual pleasure. The sad part is I don't even feel like a slut. I just I feel like I should just live in the top drawer of his nightstand....for free of course.
I took my vicodin with tequila. I can FEEL gravity...
I just got this text "hi this is Julie, I met you last night in the bathroom. You asked me to text you and remind you that you ate an entire lime, because you figured your sober self in the morning would be confused."
Dude. I kneed him in the face and gave him a black eye. It's like a constant reminder of our hookup. I feel like herpes. I never go away...
I didn't want to have to tell you this, violating our brother/sister code not to discuss these things but: for the love of christ stop inviting that 21 year old idiot I slept with for six months to EVERY PARTY WE THROW.
PRINCE HARRY WAS AT WAL MART SO NEXT TIME YOU BITCH ABOUT GOING TO WAL MART REMEMBER THAT EVEN PRINCE HARRY GOES TO WAL MART.
I should just black out in my front yard again- that was a great nights sleep.
I told your dad we had a nice lunch and hung out for awhile. It seemed more appropriate than "I had a bite of his canned chili and then we ripped each others clothes off."
I'm drawing the line at your vagina. I will not accompany you to get that pierced and/or tattooed. There's got to be some mystery to our relationship.
You're the second person to offer to fuck me in the bathroom at work. Idk whether I should feel honored, or if cvs is just a turn on.
Just when I thought I was growing up, I go out and TOTALLY REDEEM MYSELF
Not only did I get the promotion, but last night after sex he took me outside and let me hold it for him while he peed in the snow. I made a heart. This week is going amazing
I made an executive decision to rename my Resume file to something other than MONEYMONEYMONEY.
You just kept yelling "you ain't got no pancake mix." to the tv screen
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