I found the seven page love letter I had written you. I'm sorry i was so obsessed.
talking dirty on facebook chat is the new phone sex.
I woke up with spaghetti in my mouth
You guys tried to boil water to fill up the empty hot tub. After the fourth trip back with the kettle you gave up.
mom in a round about way told me to either donate my eggs or become a surrogate bcuz I need money.
at 6am he came into my room and kicked me in the stomach. when i finally got up he was passed out in my hallway and the bathtub water was running
I'm not embarrassed about the lap dance. I'm embarrassed for the singing during.
I just saw the Mona Lisa in the background of a porno. Whole new appreciation for art. fuck you I'm cultured.
You said you didn't want to drink anymore so you started shooting vodka down the back of your throat using a syringe. Oh, and then you aimed it at my eye ball...vodka in the eye hurts btw.
I just want to eat and sleep til I'm dead. I should've been born a cat.
Question #1: Why am I on my living room floor? Question #2: Where did the bloody footprints come from? Question #3: Why are there two McChickens next to the wine bottle?
I feel like ditching all logic and responsibility and get shit-faced before the week's over. Thoughts?
If I stopped mid-sex because the guy was hung like a light switch, it doesn't count, does it? Like the five second rule.
HE CHOSE A RESTAURANT AND MADE A FUCKING RESERVATION. I AM SHOOK
I got a pots and pans set and a vibrator. Merry Crisis.
Randomize
