I am spending my work day planning my weekend drinking schedule
easter eggs filled with ecstasy. it's what jesus would do.
I love waking up with his head head between my legs, it makes me feel special
Great. My funeral dress now smells of smoke and disappointing sex.
I think her version of saying goodnight was being flung over a guys shoulder as he said, "Bitch. You don't need no shoes."
some people spend their whole lives trying to find their soulmate. who knew mine was hiding in utah successfully balancing a pageant career and a coke habit.
Champagne pong turned into an expensive and painful experience.
I'm reliable. I always make it home. I always throw up in the street too.
I had a drink called "the white nun." It tasted like Marshmallows, and celibacy.
I was grinding on him when mosquitoes starting biting us and ruined every damn thing. I just wanted to fuck on a slide under the stars. It's every girls dream.
He said it wasn't ladylike of me to drink more whiskey than him. I told him to stop being a little bitch.
The only good thing about the sex was that he finally cracked the spot on my back that's been hurting.
If someone tells me they're a paramedic, how inappropriate is it for me to ask what their save to kill ratio is?
i'm not too sure if he's up to my expectations looks-wise, but in the penis department he exceeds ALL regulations.
Now I know Sunday Funday means fucking till you loose your voice.
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