Today I realized that I've had whole drunk relationships with people. And sober me has and wants no part in it.
I just used my 7th grade year book to figure out who I hooked up with last night. Being home is magical.
The nurse told me they're using the same medicine that killed michael jackson.
I bought this skirt with every intention to have it wrapped around my tits by the end of the night. So, I'm not a whore. I'm a self-fulfilling prophecy.
He gets a blow job; I get my oil changed free of charge. And that way I only see him every 2500 miles.
It's not too terrible. You just got a little naked and broke your arm.
Smoking a bowl in nothing but a flamingo thong.
I remember grabbing your ass. So firm. So right. I don't regret it.
I just thought about how many drinks I had last night and threw up.
I've seen too many dicks in the past week. I can't do it anymore.
Just because you have put things in my vagina does not mean you know me
I'm like 89% sure I could get him to buy me a car in exchange for a half-assed handy.
It was somewhere in between an airport security patdown and a medical examination. No groping or squeezing, just brief pokes and pats.
I haven't even lived here for 24 hours yet, and I've already banged someone. My new hoe life is off to a great start.
thanks for supporting my whoreish tendencies
Randomize
