anyone who buys me chipotle gets an automatic hj
and I'm going to name my autobiography "blow jobs with enthusiasm are the best"
I'm naming my autobiography "Reasons Not to Date Girls From Texas."
its simple. when his lips are on my clitoris i want to marry him. when they are speaking i want to kill him.
Ok. Also I almost just threw up. Seriously. I was think to myself "really? Here? Now? At my work desk?" and then it went away.
No, the weekend was great. It was the waking up in the pond in the raft without an oar that sucked. That fucking water is cold at 7am.
I'm walking home wearing Kermit the frog footie pajamas, carrying a monogrammed shot glass set with my name on it. It's fucking Christmas!
I have never appreciated strippers so much. Ma'am, you are an artist
I just got a lap dance from a kid in the coconut bra... So not drunk enough for this.
Apparently I had 2 bloody noses and after my sis put me to bed at the hotel, I escaped and my sister's friend found me in an elevator with some guy
I just matched with a taco on tinder. Dreams come true.
They found me wandering around campus screaming body shots over and over again wrapped in a curtain
Harry Potter pub crawl tonight. You know you're living your life right when your check list for the evening is wizard robes, wand and acid.
If I don't wake up tomorrow you inherit my paycheck and can only spend it at cinnabon
Made out with sailor moon tonight. Childhood dreams do come true.
Well, he pretended he was climbing me like he was a monkey and I was a tree during sex.
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