Im partying with a unicorn. You don't even know.
I left a cheeto on everyone's car trailing to the house i'm at, hanzel and gretel style.
Let's just say after this weekend I'm known as Shameous the Irish bar fighter.
Judging by the garbled spelling in the calendar reminders in my phone, drunk me really wanted sober me to take a pregnancy test today.
I know. It's cray. Crayon. Crayolaaaaa.
I do wanna see you. And we can just lay here and watch a movie and listen to me cry.
Dear god. Please. Please do NOT deprive yourself of dick for 90 days. Blood will spill. Wolverines will howl. I can't handle that kind of terror.
I have to remind myself to breathe. That hungover.
I saw a kitty kat get finger blasted on the couch by a Bulls player
holy shit I just remembered that story I told about Tom hanks going bowling while high.
I've had sex near too many of the blankets to let our parents touch them like this
i'm the most scandalous girl at stop and shop. i kinda have to fuck him in the meat cooler.
I am so horny. It's like all the stress of finals week has relocated to my vagina.
i just want a beer and a blow job. is that so much to ask?
and i just want a ring so i can stop faking it. is that?
Don’t get me wrong—I love silver and bracelets—but handcuffs are not a good look on me…
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