i wanted a birthday blowjob. not a birthday VD.
he asked me out through an event invitation on facebook, the title read Romantic Dinner For 2
he met me at the airport with a welcome home sign with a grilled cheese, PBR and a blow job on it. i missed america.
you're close to getting here right? Because if you're still not here and I have to get dressed to answer the door for the pizza guy, i'm tipping him $100 on your credit card to spite you
Damn it, I know in the morning I'm going to regret eating out of the trash...
He keeps asking me for girl advice, i told him im an expert at getting drunk, not girls
Close your eyes and stop texting and think about puppies. You'll be fine.
I will now send you explicit pics of mine and her genetalia bound together forever in the devils dance that is sexting.
When you were bringing him upstairs I told him to bring you on down to pound town. you're welcome.
Thank god for federal credentials. Waaaaayyyy to hungover to go through airport security lines right now.
He recreated the night that started all my mothers days. We shared a joint, drank Boones Farm, and dry humped to the Beastie Boys. Then I cried over MCA's death. Best. Gift. Ever.
I woke up to a shattered My Little Pony garbage pail, a black eye I don't know how I got and no one will look me in the face. Fuck tequila.
She just sent me a message. It's a poem, about eternal love, that she wrote, about us. Just because I took her home two nights - doesn't mean it's eternal love.
You passed out and I didn't draw a penis on your face. Sister of the year.
*6am blends another margarita* *615am blends straight tequila*
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