My face smells like last night's lay. I need a whore bath. Or a corndog.
Call it a failed empirical study as to whether drugs would make her more interesting. or at least better in bed.
He had one of those small greek statue penises
I can practically hear my vag and my conscience fighting.
The extent of my physical activity is running from the cops.
Ah shit... I sleep-ate chocolate pudding again.
He wouldn't let me go down on him. He stopped me and told me he was a giver.
I don't not like him. It's just wierd talking to him because we both know I fucked his wife.
You can't buy drugs with a ziplock bag full of quarters, chuck-e-cheese coins, and a starbucks giftcard.
watch me
Also, I'm going to TRY and be casual this weekend, but really, we need to be serious about equally dividing our time between party and bullshit.
So nowhere in the dress code does it forbid me from showing up to City Hall in a gorilla suit to meet the mayor.
Just got a message from a drag queen on okcupid. I cant even catfish successfully.
I am stoned, not wearing a bra, and a woman. There is no way in fuck I am getting on a fucking bus.
Stop calling me, Mom. I'm in his closet. You're gonna blow my cover and I'm about to catch this lying SOB.
this strobe light makes my body turn on and off
Randomize
