So drunk can't even tell it's my own house. WOaoOw.
saturday- my day is open, my legs are not. you in?
well apparently not.
She begged me for sex again. I felt like I was telling a homeless person I didn't have any change.
She left me a voicemail too. It's just her moaning her name repeatedly
Aaaaand that would be the most of my hand I've ever fit into a vagina before.
My booty call just put me down for a reference for her job at the hospital. What am I supposed to say? She gives great bj's?
When he sent me a picture, I swear my vag frowned. That tiny.
How much do you charge for your Funyun and beer delivery service?
She's comparing the feel of breasts to shredded cabbage. Weirdest. Grandmother. Ever.
On second thought, is it weird that I scheduled a surgery that determines my fertility around lingerie football night? I might have fucked up priorities.
Absolutely not. I would have done the exact same thing.
I miss you, too. It's hard to sleep without anything licking my head.
Jäger goes great with personal crises and receding morals...
I'm playing drinking games with a boy who looks like Liam Hemsworth. I think I'm fine.
I'm sorry I never said I wasn't coming home last night. To my defense I did type and send a text, only I was too drunk to realize I sent it to the guy I was with instead of you.
My vagina is no longer accepting new clients.
Randomize