So the D.A.R.E. essay I helped my tutor kid write won an award. Oh the irony.
Nope changed our mind. Decided your strange bacon like body odor wasn't what we want to smell tonight.
Sorry for talking about super scientific shit so much last night, I know it bugs you sometimes when I don't shut up.
What? You sat on the couch for a solid 2 hours staring at your fingerprints and the only word that came out of your mouth was "how"
my 3 favorite things in life are tequila, dicks, and making sandwiches. that DOES NOT make me a bad person.
When his Irish accent comes out my uterus hums. Or some productive organ down there, I'm not sure of the logistics
There's still flour in my hair. And I don't even want to know what the neighbors think happened infront of my house.
He thinks he's a sex addict. Just. My. Type.
I tried to pay my tab and go home but she wrote me a "list of things I'm good at" with fellatio as no 1...
Just made a diving catch to save a handle of Fireball falling out of the car. ESPN worthy.
I am descending into that finals week rage fueled by ramen, mountain dew and bad sex is what's up.
I had a sex dream about Fox Mulder, and the Royals just won the World Series. My life is complete.
I might go bald with this hair pulling thing every night.
I think even the taco bell employees judged me
I believe the only reason I am slightly functional right now is the leftover drugs in my nose that I keep sniffing
He really is. Owns his own house and has more than one towel!
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