By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
I sold my books for weed money!
Finals don't start for a week...
there's unknown territories my dick was not made to discover
I don't care. I'm going to fuck John's friend and it's all your fault.
I tried. Now my legs are bleeding and I cracked my head on the coffee table. Never taking your advice again.
I'm having horrible flashbacks of being groped by Pauly Shore.
You have all of her herpes and none of my sympathy
I got head this morning from the 31-year-old version of Jenn. It was like a blow job from the future while a simultaneous blast from the past for 10 minutes.
It's 4 am here and I just vomited myself awake....Not rising OR shining any time soon
You then played what you called "a smooth jazz rendition of talk dirty to me" all thrusting your crotch at the bartender. Mom looked horrified, but my dad couldn't stop laughing
Waking up next to a guy you don't remember going home with and the first thing you say is: where is my tiara? = successful birthday
Have you ever been so drunk you pass out in the cab and everyone goes inside and forgets about you? I have
you told me you wanted to be a soccer mom with a high tolerance then you put the bottle to your face
Coffee and girl scout cookies. Breakfast of champions.
Get fucked.
I'm going to leave the 5 dollars that fell out of my bra while fucking in his room on the dresser as an apology
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