He said he only talked to me because I talk dirty in bed.
Life lesson: when driving and throwing up, choose a paper bag over plastic. Fuck my life.
he asked if thats how we do it in the states..like there's cultural difference in fucking between canada and the us..
me and my mom are sitting in the bank parking lot drying my beer soaked check with the heat... the whole car smells like heinekin and I'm trying to convince her I don't need a.a.
he just texted me saying he needs a place to stay for the night. pretty sure i just got booty called to my own house...
Still losing my voice, so I am trying to get it back through drugs. Welcome to my Monday logic.
I can taunt you with whatever I want. Like batman and sex.
Smoked a joint with my old camp counselor and now we're going to a strip club. There is a god.
Turns out the owner of the bar that I fucked used to be on Boy Meets World, but now he's old and bald. So there's that..
it was one of those unspoken contracts of silence like "I teach your daughter and you work at a strip club"...I don't tell if you don't
I want to die, ON THAT, with that INSIDE ME. ironically, I sense that would be the only time I'd feel alive.
seriously considering getting an electric blanket rather than sleeping with guys this winter for warmth.
If a cop comes up to me I'm whipping out my cock, swinging it around and singing the national anthem
Good rule of thumb: only list personal references with whom you have hallucinated
Somehow I don't think offering me edibles is what dad meant by checking in on me
They're the hard candy kind!
Randomize
