just spent about 3 1/2 hours looking for a dollar so I can buy weed.
suggestion: become a stripper.
Let's put it this way, it's 9am and that box of wine looks like the cure
we were fucking and all I could think about is how my silly bands were glowing in the dark.
He texted me for drugs this time. Not sex. I dunno if I should be pleased it's not sex or disappointed that I come across as a druggie
She gave me a rubber ducky to make me feel better while I was throwing up.
He leaned out the window to puke right as the fan for the ac turned on. All of it blew back up into his face.
Blacked out last night, but left myself a note that said "oops on oops on oops" that can never be a positive
I'm looking forward to the release of my future best seller - "Three Words to Make Your Relationship 100% Better: Surprise Blow Jobs"
He is like the "hometown sweetheart", but a huge freak. Like "I'll come change your flat tire"....but then fuck you like an animal in the back seat.
Some old chick is rubbing my thigh and saying she needs some Memorial Day dick. Her teeth are kind of gross but I'm going for it.
Opened my notebook to coke all over the pages. So, if that's any indication on how this weekend went.
I can't sleep. Send Llama pictures.
I said "one day" and that day is not today
The only thing that makes a night with half a bottle of cheap vodka is the other half of that bottle of cheap vodka.
He couldn’t find my clit with a map. Literally. I drew him a map.
Randomize
