Yeah I guess I was Pocahontus. If she were a trifling drunk who hung out in her undies, with possible brain damage.
It was amazing what she could do with her one good arm.
if I end up fighting someone to save $15 on a toaster oven then something went wrong earlier in life
He went soft
Wait. During?
Yeah, he was IN. MY. MOUTH.
So I made him an imaginary sandwich and told him that the day I didn't have to fake it, neither would he.
I've done unspeakable things to your penis. I have every right to give it a name.
Of course she said it wasn't that good, I don't bring my A game to pity fuck the thrice divorced girl from work
and then he tried plucking my nose hairs. lines were crossed.
Oh god I can't handle any more dudes. I just walk of shamed to work wearing a guy's boxers and a life jacket. This summer is going to kill me.
Lights are FLASHING. This just got REAL. CAPTALIZATION.
I sincerely thought making it to McDonalds by 10:00am was a shoe-in but it appears that I need to adjust my zoom when looking at the map before walking to places.
So now I can cross "have my ass be someone's phone background" off the bucket list. You know, if it was something I actually had wanted to happen.
SCOTCH AND CIGARS AT THE TITTY BAR. YOU ARE COMING WITH US.
It was a frighteningly large penis to say the least
Real life skills section of my resume: blow jobs, food knowledge trivia, sarcasm, mascaera application, sexting, tolerance of rail liquors
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