Sorry I totally forgot to text you back. When you texted me I was at work at the pharmacy and it was stupid busy. And then of course I had my 8 hour "shoot me b/c half of Loyola comes in to buy plan B" shift.
i'm home, then i'll come over
ightttt gangstaaaaaaaaaaaa
nvm.
his ringtone is the jonas brothers. get me the fuck out of here NOW.
I should have some sort of frequent buyer card or something. I just bought my third bottle of Captain this week. It's Wednesday.
she is using a fork to eat popcorn and refuses to drink gatorade out of anything but a margarita glass... did i mention the popcorn is on a plate?
i dont want to stoop that low. but my dick does.
the fog machine set off the whole complexes fire alarm
I am on my usual post-jerkoff high of eternal happiness. Like I could punch a fucking tiger.
me and him got disney princess makeovers at disneyworld. this is why gay guys make the best friends.
I didn't think it was possible but he dislocated his thumb during intercourse last night then cried
party devolved into two exes battling with Cal's tiki torches, and the lawn being set on fire kinda sorta and then we all hula'ed... hulaed?
Nothing like waking up and having two guys who aren't your boyfriend talk to you about their hard dicks before 9 am.
I should probably eat a Plan B. Pill for breakfast. Happy Halloween.
I answered the booty call in my Trophy Wife cutoff and my ex-boyfriends sweatpants with a bottle of jager.
and how was that received?
I was giving this fat lawyer a table dance and he asked me if I would be willing to play with his long, hard stick of the law. And you want me to stop drinking at work?
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