My T9 Word has dryhumped saved but I can't even get it to figure out bbq.
My drug dealer is spending the weekend in my studio apartment. I feel like I've crossed a line that should never be crossed.
doing lines of blow through a tampon applicator in the study lounge at 7am so i can finish an italian composition that was due a week and a half ago...such a good student.
How dare you send me a picture after midnight that isn't porn. You know the rules.
I hope that he knows just because i pissed in his bed doesn't mean were together.
DRUNK CANOEING
Please text me if you survive.
LAND HO BITCH
I've come to the conclusion while folding laundry and watching porn that I may be dead inside.
I still don't like him. I'm also filled with alcohol, so I'll revisit the statement in the morning.
I woke up to a quacking alarm clock and a rando in my bed. I told him I liked his cargo shorts. Fireball is not my soulmate anymore.
Killing two birds with one stone tonight: mastrabation meditation. Win win.
Because sadly the idea of me having a girlfriend is crazy enough to be an April fools prank
I can't decide which is better: the sex, or remembering that I have ice cream in the freezer after he left
Update: his apartment is apparently in the campus Christian community center. The fact that I fucked him on the couch in the lobby is officially my crowning life achievement.
I don't know what kind of bucket list you have, but having sex with a tree isn't on mine...
Have you considered murder?
Other than my credit score and this bowl of oatmeal, not really. It's very messy
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