My sheets at my parents place are clean. No braveheart but I can paint myself, yell "freedom", and sword fight you with my cock. So come over.
And if you don't call me, I will embarrass you publicly with a can of spray cheez.
you're dressed like that and you're on the rag, that's false advertisment
i think the bruises are from the grocery store. on separate occasions. i've been spending a lot of time drunk at the market lately.
i have a vague recollection of being in the parking deck around 4 this morning, and on monday morning i was naked on the roof.
that would mean it's on tape
you literally pushed me forward in the seat so you could puke behind my back without the cabbie noticing..
My night ended with Em alternately crying and throwing up in the arms of a guy wearing a cutoff and a tiara. I sat holding a garbage can and wine glass full of water wondering how our night got to this point.
At this point the smell of shame has become my natural musk
My face feels like its stuck between a ball sack and an asshole.
This is just what we do. We meet guys, go back to their place, smoke all their weed & go home to compete in out own version of Cupcake Wars.
wrestling a boy for fruit? sounds suspiciously like foreplay...
Cant leave im designed bacon maker you come here
Don't date the locals. They're all tainted.
I think my liver has finally had enough and is going all Ashley-Judd-in-a-Lifetime-movie on me.
I've never been so excited to be bleeding from my vagina.
My mom said "I saw the signs you guys were high, so I made the spaghetti"....so ya, I'd say she definitely knew
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