last night was a success...if success means i don't remember the guy's name and my panties are somewhere in the parking lot behind the bar
His dick was as big as my arm. Giving him a handjob was like giving someone an Indian sunburn.
I really hope he dies in a tragic kegstand mishap
It's hard being an adult. And by that I mean it's hard to tell the boy you like who rejected you that you can't share a room with him at white party because you don't want to see him bang other boys.
Unless you've also woken up wearing a poncho and a ring pop, I suggest you don't judge me. Okay, I even judged myself for that.
Texas State Troopers call you ma'am even when they arrest you for public nudity and after you've puked on their cruiser. Country boys raised right.
No memories of receiving this. Or of getting home. Or of apparently developing a taste for marmalade, which I assume is yours because I have literally never eaten it before. It's all over the kitchen. And my phone. And in my hair. Oh god I wish I wasn't on the train to work. X And sorry about the kitchen x
I haven't been this unsober in a long time. I feel like I am observing myself. Like I am a test subject for alcohol. I wish my brain would shut up and let me be a normal drunk.
My date bailed but I got to take a nap so I'm cool with it.
Would it be rude to use my vibrator? like he forfeited his right to be mad when he left me orgasmless...right?
I just bout myself an edible arrangement for myself and had it delivered to work. I even wrote myself a note. This is a new low for me.
He said something last night about making crepes, but after getting pissed on in bed, I question everything.
Just as an add on, don't expect me to wear matching bra and underwear. If I do, I'm probably drunk and it's your fucking birthday. Have a great night.
breakfast this morning: omelette, Valium and baileys hot chocolate
Now that sounds like the breakfast of champions
Are you still passed out in my back seat, or do I need to come find you?
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