The good thing about walking home in a dress on sunday morning is that people mistake my walk of shame as a walk to God.
32 messages asking me to suck his dick. And there for a minute i thought i was desperate. ha!
Hahahaha
make that 40.
It only happened twice. Once we used extra virgin olive oil and once I used saliva and brute force.
you dialed the number "23" then talked to it for three minutes
"Party in the USA" was played at church youth group last night. It was like everything I enjoy hating was aligning against me.
I get credit on the assist, you can thank me by taking a pic of her ass under the covers and sending it to me. It would make my YEAR
she bonged a coffee cause she was hungover. then she bonged a beer cause she got ambitious. then she barfed. then she had to start over again.
The police woke me up so they had no choice but to see my morning wood.
the evidence suggests last night I either took a bath in beer or drank 18 beers while in the bath. either one sounds good to me. sad i don't remember it
Dry heaving on campus is my new low. Also, go pats
I want to die, ON THAT, with that INSIDE ME. ironically, I sense that would be the only time I'd feel alive.
I grabbed the pretzel bag with my toes last night. I think that day of yoga had paid off.
I honestly don't understand how your night went from singing a touching rendition of Africa to an angry political rant to low key trying to find a frat boy to bang to doing dishes to yoga
He dropped some cash when he got in my front seat upside down. And a hat. I'm keeping them as retribution for not remembering that he had sex with me once before. Although, if he didn't have his dick pierced, I wouldn't have remembered either.
All my friends are getting married and I'm pole dancing in a tattoo shop. I don't know how I feel about this.
They spent thousands on one day. You made $76 in 30 minutes. You should feel great about that.
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