I'm sorry that you don't think that "Daddy Issues" are a real thing, but I can tell you that some assholes who never went to their daughter's dance recitals are responsible for getting me laid...continuously.
She's mad at me cuz I told her having a fuck buddy was too much commitment.
I'm doing this for my boobs. They miss him.
I woke up to him drunk-t-bagging me, saying "huevos rancheros" were being served for breakfast.
I don't want to have to force feed him my vagina!!
They got a 10 foot tall beach ball from the roof of a McDonalds. Get the fuck over here.
i'm calling it my monica lewinsky shirt now. may it live forever in infamy.
There is a midget driving a powered tricycle around town. I am not drunk, stoned, or lying.
Beans, may the odds of a nip slip and drunken make out session be ever in your favor
I'm studying. And by studying I mean I am laying on my floor drinking boones farm alone. Last two weeks. Fuck it.
He a gives rim jobs, because, of course a guy who opens doors and makes reservations would lick your anus..like a gentleman.
I am going home. I have pee on my pants. Rachel is driving and I and drunk. It is not Rachels pee. It is my pee.
the last thing is remember is that strange guy in the leotard...i woke up in my bed, naked, with a half eaten grilled cheese on my nightstand, a six pack in the fridge, a new pack of cigarettes on my pillow and coke in my purse. apparently i bought some drugs, shopped and cooked. typical.
Relationship goals: we both wore red underwear tonight. Except he won’t know because my bra been off but it’s the thought that counts I guess.
all i remember is walking home without my pants on... when i woke up i was sleeping in between my parents in their bed, no more whiskey wednesdays
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