And for 6 straight hours, I laid on my bedroom floor trying to convince myself it would perfectly acceptable to pee on my own floor
Today's face brought to you by last night's make-up.
I'm pretty sure you thought I could absorb alcohol through my dress
I honestly didn't see the problem playing beer pong In the car on the road trip home.
i yelled at him for a little and we ended up fucking in a random tennis court.
You brought us all personal gifts you had stolen from the party and bellowed "hoes hoes hoes, clepto Santa loves you"
Front seat of an Escalade in a limo-service parking lot. That is all.
I just want to have such an intense orgasm that my heart stops and I die. I mean that would kind of suck for the guy I'm fucking but then again he could be like "I'm that good"
Mom just referred to a 9 year old as "this bitch", so I'd say day drinking was a success.
You don't care if I shave my legs, but you insist I be conscious for sex. Whatever. I really think your priorities are out of whack.
what compelled you to fill her bra with pudding and freeze it in the first place?
i might remember if i didn't get knocked out with it later that day.
The name of the man in your bed is not Ryan. I can't remember what his name is but that is wrong
All the movies on cable here are either porn or Bollywood. I am never leaving this hotel.
Thank you, BTW, for defiling my bed. Glad it was done well.
Wake up. Smoke. Masturbate while eggos cook. Go back to bed. Smoke. Body spray shower. Beer with breakfast. Class. Morning of a champion.
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