Dear everyone that texted me last night wondering where i was. i ended up face down blacked up drunk before i made it to the party. My bad
Five things that make you perfect. Go.
The skin of a dead hooker. The blood of the innocent. The soul of a kitten. The hat from cat in the hat. And sunglasses.
you told me your penis was albino and it couldnt be exposed to light so you needed to keep it in me
tan lines, throwing up everclear on the beach, doing lifeguards, tequila...summer.
Welll when you have a beer at 8:30 am you've already decided whaat kind of Sunday it ism
Straight guys just can't stay away. My penis must have pheromones or something.
Idk. The last coherent text said something about $25 & dimes. And then...it's just letters...
Also, no joke, I think that raccoon hair is still in my eye from last night.
too late I already started a fight with someone named luscious
So... crashing at the hot bartender's place is not a solid marital decision.
You gave him that scrunchie you made and called it your "sex offering".
I'd climb him like a horny MILF spider monkey.
He started me on Celexa. I think I feel like Bjork. Is that normal?
Like... my feet feel like little octopuses, and they want to swim to the next room.
He bought me pizza and bourbon and played scrabble with me. So naturally I slept with him.
Hey I know we haven't talked in a while, but I wanted to thank you for those m&ms you bought me for Christmas. Sorry I never got you anything then broke up with you.
Randomize
