I found the seven page love letter I had written you. I'm sorry i was so obsessed.
Threw my underwear in my purse as I was running away after sex last night, went to pick up my birth control prescription this morning, took out my wallet and accidentally flung my sweet thong onto the counter in front of the cashier. Think that was the universes way of telling me I am a whore.
shit is crazy. i just keep thinking that this kid growing inside Emily used to live in my balls.
the cops didnt even say happy birthday to me :(
this morning i realized i came home with more condoms then i left. burn.
I made him hve sex with me in the elevator so that I could put my finger down in never have I ever.
He didn't dress up but kept finding random pieces of costumes on the floor at each club. He was an 80s hair band warrior at the end of the night.
Once he blows his load, he's more of an immediate flight risk than that jetBlue pilot. He's out the door before his cum is out of my vajayjay.
Apparently he crashed because 3 different girls were trying to give him road head at the same time.
He came on my favorite pants. He is dead to me.
I'm on the couch watching HGTV googling giant boob Halloween costumes so life is swell
I wish I could accurately explain the embarrassment of standing in your bathroom with women's nair on your ass waiting to get in the shower.
Damn that brownie almost kicked my ass. I'm not sure if my flight home lasted 10 minutes or 10 days..
Of course you try to burn the house down on the one night we take down the smoke alarm so we can use the fog machine more
I just learned that the grill marks on a Burger King burger patty are actually previously burnt on there with a radioactive spray-on liquid and McDonald's french fries are actually 5% potato.
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