hey what are you doing
hooking up with some marlborough girl. shes gorgeous!
i texted you because i like you, and i told my freinds you were my fiance. but sine we're not dating you're not cheating and i'm pathetic
and I'm going to name my autobiography "blow jobs with enthusiasm are the best"
I'm naming my autobiography "Reasons Not to Date Girls From Texas."
My leg won't stop wagging. It's like it's congratulating my vagina.
i'm not entirely sure that 'not getting kicked out of the bar until it got dark' really classifies as 'doing better'
i threw up in a box in my own lap driving today.
she found out just an hour ago that she might have cervical cancer. either way we're watching 50/50 and taking a shot of patron anytime anyone says cancer.
The money is just too good to quit doing it. I'm using the same justification strippers use.
Well, I found my bra. It's in my glove compartment with a half-eaten Snickers bar and a Jesus bookmark.
Your message cut off at "shit on the floor". Your life is incredible.
I had a dream I gave a blow job to a guy whose dick forked off into two. I'm going to spend the rest of my life confused.
I just baby talked my cat. While getting ready for bed... Before 10 on a Friday. I'm officially a cat lady.
woke up to find i out made out with his roommate before hooking up with him. breakfast was awkward to say the least
I never thought my selfie stick would come in handy for nudes.
You're never gonna guess who's blood is on my shirt
Why do I feel like I really don't want to hear the end of this...
I am a unicorn in a field of flowers, you asshole.
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