I'm watching a show called "I didn't know I was pregnant" on TLC...Apparently this happens enough that there is a series
I just wanna lay in my bed all bundled up as have someone feed me lettuce
I have to bobbypin his pubes for us to have sex. The other day he wanted me to braid them.
Standing in my kitchen eating choc chip cookie batter from the bowl. As sad as it is, I kinda like the places bad breakups take me.
I may or may not be negotiating a deal of baked goods for socks...keep you posted
He needs a high five right to the fucking mouth. With a chair. Or an atomic bomb.
I ordered a VEGAN pizza, because it gets here the fastest, just so I could get a 2 litre of Coke. For my whiskey.
They're fighting and it sounds intense. Cross your fingers for their demise
Toss in some raw meat and play heavy metal music. It will insight violence.
And that was the night we had mind-blowing sex with the score from Raiders of the Lost Ark blaring on vinyl in the background...
I feel like I should treat myself every time I find out I'm not pregnant. Is there a pie company that delivers??
I mean I'm sad it didn't work out but tbh he he can't unlick my booty hole or unbreak his headboard... He won't forget my name ever
My 1st STD. I feel like there should be a cake for this.
The clothing optional portion of the night began around midnight. Then we did disgusting things to each other. It was beautiful.
I just brought her a lipstick taser. So just remember that the next time you get smart with her
All I ever wanted was my bed, Tylenol, and total darkness. Instead I had a pervert with porno posters who blares german rock calling me tootsie pop. How was your saturday night?
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