so i wake up and the chick who i had sex last night left her phone number. next to the number was a broken condom. should i call?
I'd just like to give a shout out to jesus and plan b for making this day possible.
St Patricks Day is not the day you decide to have a sober epiphany.
Let's just say trying to drink my weight in apple pie shots looked better in theory.
So there I was praying he didn't go limp again, choking on a long, long gray ball hair. This is my Saturday night. This. Is. My. Life.
I got a dollar bill stuffed into my bra on two separate occasions by two separate guys simply for having boobs. I feel like somewhere god is patting himself on te back while pointing at me goin "you're welcome dude." easiest two bucks I ever made.
I hate it when fuck holes buy me drinks at the bar. You don't know my order. You don't know me. You don't know where I've been. You don't know my life.
Seriously-without actually meaning the statement for it's words- that made me want to put a baby in you.
I don't miss having sex with him. We had our finale fuck last week. He's all yours now.
I remember saying your puke looked like a jellyfish and you got very offended.
It's either gonna be a cock in my mouth or a burger. You decide which.
He had really great hair, but he told me he's been in a psych ward three times. I mean I know I'm a psych major, but that's too much.
Thanks for being my best friend so I can use you as an alibi to my family while I'm out getting some dick in my face.
My parents are coming to visit the 28th. How bad is it that I put a reminder in my phone to "hide sex toys"?
Feel free to drag me back to reality at your convenience
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