I woke up this morning and "The Wood" was on tv. Touche TBS, touche.
Everything went well, until I walked into his bedroom and there was a Ronald Reagan poster watching over his bed - creepy
he called me "his little blueberry cunt muffin"...how would that make you feel?
new low: my hungover self just mistook bacon grease for mashed potatoes. worst. mistake. ever.
I just want a better ending for myself. Not walking around with one sock on and my bush hanging out.
I am drunk at a castle and it isn't even 3. Europe is amazing.
Be careful there's warming lubricant on the floor. I will clean and explain later.
If you were wondering whether I accidentally FaceTime called the undergrad who works for me in lab during a particularly graphic blow job last night, then the answer is yes.
We should celebrate the resignation of Berlusconi tonight with too many bottles of wine and sambuca. We're allies, right?
This place smells like bottom shelf liquor and broken dreams
He fingered me and now wants me to go get plan b because of it. WE'RE IN COLLEGE.
How are you going to come here and fuck on our couch ? That's everyones couch
He came over in a blaze orange vest with a case of beer and a shotgun yelling about "Dove Season" then passed out in the lawn. There he lies
Will Smith has a direct hotline to my emotions
A bitchslap is in order.
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