Little spoons don't ask big questions
I feel like I'm a marionette being lifted around. Four Loko.
The world is my kaleidiscope. I see whatever the alcohol wants me to.
Our new roommate is sitting in the living room wearing a snuggie and clutching a handle of burnett's mixed with what appears to be crystal light and sobbing over a documentary about a dead race horse.
I know. Isn't she utterly fantastic?
I have to be at work in a hour. Can you sufficiently fuck me in 35 minutes?
Did the vodka turn my hair yellow or did something else happen last night?
If I don't have the money by then, I'll pay you in sex.
It's going to be 23.5 times of sex and 19 blow jobs. I just googled it.
Did you drink ALL that 151??
No. We drank all the jaeger... Then used the 151 to start the fire. We're also out of paper towels... And your hairspray is flammable.
She's licking the whiskey out of the carpet. I think we may be soulmates.
You're officially the most high maintenance man I've ever had inside me.
I really have to stop going to the movies high. Spending $10 to not know what the fuck is going on is starting to get pricey.
The uber man and I sat in silence. With my underwear in my purse and my dress shoved in the pocket of the hoodie the guy gave me.
I just want him to go down on me while I eat a burger. Is that too much to ask?
Dick is the cure to depression. I'm almost positive. And cough syrup.
My mom just used the chap stick I used right after giving him a blow job. I am a horrible daughter :(
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