I*** M*****, this is your dignity texting you. I ditched you when you started hitting on bros and old sailor men last night. My friend Sarah has pictures to prove it.
Riding home in a carseat. Worst. Night. Ever.
Things he has used as lube on me: olive oil, cologne, purell, spit, tanning oil, and bottled hotel lotion
He needs to save up for some actual ky before my vagina gets an allergic reaction
after you threw up, you tried to prove you were sober by reading the ingredients off the shampoo bottles
the only bad part about drinking alone is that in the morning there's nobody who can tell you what you did
I feel that my census will not be the first census submitted soaked in beer
His roomates just started party boying me. He stood there with the look of horror on his face.
and now that ive poetically compared your vagina to a nuclear missile, I hope youre prepared for this date.
we hotboxed my bathroom. with nine people and two dogs.
Made myself shower before I'd masturbate. I probably should have wined and dined myself too, but that's pushing it too far.
I started scrolling back in our texts looking for context and a picture of your dick rose like the Great Pumpkin in the middle of my screen.
I needed 3am water. Not 3am shots of rum.
When you left the bar, you did two cartwheels and a heel click and RAN ALL THE WAY HOME.
Don't care if they even pay me; I lifeguard for the fringe benefits -- free tourist vagina in the Hilton jacuzzi every single night
You're moving up the public shitting ladder
Randomize
