we need to drink more beer. the fridge wont close.
I can't believe we had "50th anniversary of man in space" sex.
In between when I last wrote and now have screwed a Swiss guy on a hostel bathroom floor. Okay, real life?
I only feel half bad for cheating on him because while we were fucking I was given great relationship advice and now I'm ready to work some things out.
Getting a vibrator would be like waving the white flag of surrender in this war against my vagina and its hormone army.
There's a chance I told a cop that I was ready for him to strip I may have even taken some ones out of my purse and stuck them in his holster
6 pack came off in the shower. Sharpie is not forever.
You just referred to a pillow with a stolen bra strapped to it as "she". Let that sink in for a minute.
I just found 20 dollars in my vibrator box. Was it a drunken sign to myself to get more?
Apparently I called him, said "vodka" and then hung up on him.
This hangover is what we deserve after that level of debauchery.
I don't particularly remember setting a firecracker off in my hand. No more tequila.
We're going to get naked and build a fort instead. HAPPY NEW YEAR!
If you come home to me in lingerie and you start vacuuming...I need to reevaluate my priorities
If that pentatonix bullshit is playing when I get home we're breaking up
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