I'm calling you out on twitter if you don't come over right now.
I think the phrase "bag of smashed assholes" describes it best
who the fuck is that kid sitting with you...
I don't have any fucking idea. I woke up and he was there. I'm kinda creeped out.
organizing the empties. That sober.
Resolution for 2011: blow jobs are a privilege, not a right.
I can't. I can't get out. He cooked me food. And made me jager bombs. And painted a glow in the dark smilie face on my boobs
Oh btw, my mom called... you made the police blotter in the newspaper. Don't worry, she's mailng me a copy so I can put in on the fridge.
Highlight of the week: I had sex with a B movie star wearing an eye patch.
I am significantly less than sober now. Gonna make like, ten hotdogs.
drinking vodka, listening 2 smh at 530am slow cooking beef stew. you'll enjoy the stew and worry abt me in the morning. bon apatite
Its so bad though\nOur relationship has gotten to the point where im posing nude with a swiffer
HE JUST ALLUDED TO FUCKING MY FRESH LOAF OF BREAD
I threw up in a wendys bag in her car. when i went to throw it out the window it exploded all over me. No I don't think there will be a second date.
Also what’s the official rule on washing one guy’s jizz off my back before I go out with another guy? That I should?
got some info she was last seen with some guy wearing goggles
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