So when jo picked me up from the bar I kept apologizing and kept telling her "I'm just a wittle donut"
That fat broad you banged out last night is still here and I can hear her snoring through the living room wall. I would leave, but I don't want to come home to an empty fridge.
I think his glow in the dark Star Wars sheets, at the time, really turned me on.
Not cool at all. Last night I organized my condoms by expiration date. I need to get laid.
Can you deep fry cheerios do you know? crucial question
all i remember was you yelling "look at my little feet" at everyone on the way home from the bar.
I need to shotgun another beer. Where's the machete?
Februarys looking very promising in the vaginal department
What if I told you that I had 160 ounces of cheap malt liquor in my backpack? Espn films 40 for 40s presents: Edward 40 hands. Our room. 11PM/10 central
I'm sorry, you're actually right. Ostrich racing happens, and they're ridden like a horse. Bewildered and distraught.
To give you an idea, there's a group upstairs trying to break down a door with their fists and heads.
She's going to be the first to die of too much illness. Not even super bad stuff like cancer but like for having a cold at the same time as a sore throat and chlamydia or something. Just too much diseases.
Sent him a nude and I forgot to crop out the Jesus picture in the background. The Catholic guilt is too real.
I almost forgot to feel shameful, if that answers your question.
Once he bit me I drew the fucking line.
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