I totally just used John Mayer's lyrics to get laid.
I am sitting on the floor by my oven watching my cookie dough blossom. This is a whole new level of fat
I could literally track my booty calls if I ever got knocked up by my parking tickets
he sent me a winky sad face. i cannot deal this level of pathetically needy flirtatiousness.
I never had a problem I couldn't slut my way out of.
bong water from a few floors above me just splashed onto my face when i was looking out the window. Happy 4/21 to me
This year I'm going to try NOT getting arrested. I think the 30th birthday is the cutoff for calling Mom to bail me out.
I can't let him end my perfect streak. HE USED TO BE FAT
There something about a girl that pirates lemonade off a restaurant fountain as a mixer that I find intriguing.
my brain is opting to stay half drunk rather than relearn how to think. the rest of me is in no position to argue.
Flatmate got laid for the first time in 3 years. I'm baking a cake.
It would be weird sobbing cry sex.
He fucked me on the hood of my car outside his work, and now I'm paranoid that the doggie day care next door might have security cameras.
will you help me invent vagina-safe pop rocks?
now whenever i pass that house all i can think about is how i pooped in their yard..
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