so we told my parents we were going trick or treating. got high as shit at some playground. and then bought our own candy so we looked legit when we got home.
All he did was lie there and used his hands to keep pace. He was like the metronome of sex.
There is a semi-attractive guy at the door who's looking for you. Says he met you on Chatroulette. Start explaining NOW.
it was frightening. in my opinion the only thing that should resemble a vagina is a vagina.
You do realize that we got a stripper to do the YMCA for us on the main stage... Right?
we're using his nephews tonka truck toy as a cooler for the beer
I wore sweatpants. When I show up to a booty call in sweatpants there's your warning
I have their Unicorn picture in my shirt, and I just threw a Bud Light Platinum bottle through their window. We need to go now.
No memories of receiving this. Or of getting home. Or of apparently developing a taste for marmalade, which I assume is yours because I have literally never eaten it before. It's all over the kitchen. And my phone. And in my hair. Oh god I wish I wasn't on the train to work. X And sorry about the kitchen x
Relaxed was like phase 1 of this phase 7 high
Ah that wonderful moment when you realise the bookmark you were using in a book you lent your mum is actually a receipt from a strip club
I had a dream that I had to take a breathalyzer but then it turned out to be a bong....why can't that be real life?
I will have to bone him sometime between now and July so he will move all my shit again
I'm dangerously close to tossing this whole "morals" bullshit and swan-diving into the fuckboy lifestyle.
Apparently I've texted the word shitfucked so much it auto-completes it now.
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