I feel like death. And death is wearing a fleece blanket as a dress. And is seriously contemplating wearing this to go get something to eat.
Last night I apparently send my boss a picutre of my boobs. On the bonus part I got a raise today. So I just want to thank your parents for naming you Jeff cuz if I was not so hammered last night I would have sent it to the right one.
god, you should never be in the FBI. you'd give away america's secrets to any boy who asked.
i'm considering texting him with "i'm leaving the country for a year, wanna fuck?"
do it. it's every man's dream.
I have more bruises, scratches, and overall soreness from my birthday weekend than my car accident.
okay, certainly we can't screw this up, and even as I type, I know we will
Is it uncouth to have a themed intervention? I know how much you like Star Wars.
Just purchased ketchup, body wash, and lube. Hope you're ready for the post-memorial-day-cookout-shower-anal.
You don't understand. This could be the last time I shave a star into my vag. Get over here.
WHEN THE FUCK DID MCDONALD'S DECIDE TO QUIT SERVING BURGERS AT 1:00AM?
I would peed on everything
I just walked away from a youth soccer tournament popping every birth control pill I had left in the pack.
just once i'd like to actually BE there for your crazy drunk stories instead of just getting the play-by-play by people who can't remember half of it
And I'm laying here struggling with the notion that I need to put pants on.
He says the sweetest things but also that he wants to choke me when we fuck so it's kinda perfect.
It's difficult when the romantic and the hedonist in me are fighting. I want him to respect me and hopefully pursue an actual relationship, but then I remember he fucks like a GOD and loves my kink. Oh, life's hard.
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