Remember when you weren't going to be a shit show?
I know...I feel like disliking her as a person on facebook
the last thing i remember is unlocking the door. its like i was literally opening the door to my blackout
only 75% of american men are circumcised...i guess this was bound to happen to me someday.
I mean, I'm all about sharing, but when he tells me about his wet dreams about Oprah, I think it's taking it too far.
This is stressing me out. I feel like I need to eat the dick.
He asked me if I wanted to play "Edouard Mandevan," turns out that's French for Edward Winehands
I just laughed at the word pudding. I have no idea whats going on right now.
We found you wrapped up in a tarp in the garage the next morning, thats how real shit got.
This is what happens when you leave: I get all vulnerable and I make out with the cowboy to shut him up about Jesus.
He was telling me about how he's leaving on his Mission next week... While we were having sex in the back of his car.
I put in a tampon while driving a moving vehicle. I feel like this is simultaneously a new low and the sort of feat that deserves a merit badge.
He couldn't give me an orgasm, but he did give me a UTI.
Now you can NEVER tell anyone that on thanksgiving I took a selfie of my pussy to prove they don't get worse with babies.
Totally writing my paper on the toilet. Makes me miss you.
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