can we please move this conversation out of my vagina?
i just peed in a port a potty and wiped with my credit card statement. fuck yeah!
Home safe. Psyche shattered. Still rolling. In love with the morrocan rug in the living room.
You left me with no money to have random Chicago sex. The least you can do is pick me up an egg mcmuffin on your walk of shame back to the hotel.
I wasnt going to have sex with him until i ran into his gf at chipotle. It was like the gods were saying "Go ahead. Shes already had her burrito for the day"
Also, you tried to make me learn all of the presidents, in order, with a picture book as an aid. At 4 am. What the fuck?
She's doing hand stands on the train as I type. Idk if I'm impressed it embarrassed. Or turned on.
I need like a hormone stopper. Or a chastity belt. Or like a lady business alarm that goes off when I'm being too drunk.
i need to stop celebrating other people's birthdays like they are m own.. my body can't handle a birthday every week
I've got beer and a bag of saltwater taffy and croutons, is that enough for this typhoon thing?
The amount of precision it takes to urinate into a 2 liter bottle while hammered is undeniably difficult.
We made out a little and then he gave me some weed. I would say it was a pretty productive stop on my way home
If it exists, I've probably pregamed it.
Your vagina is like Nancy Drew lately.
Anyone who can sit 4 hours in a doobie circle with their feet in a kiddie pool is ok by me
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