the "happy anniversary" cake for my mom and dad is about to turn into the "yeah, that's a hickey, welcome back from italy" cake.
I want my own midget army. I think I would be a good midget army leader.
there are certain things about getting into a cab to go home at 630 am that make me feel like a prostitute.
The woman at the nail salon waxing my lip just showed me the strip with all the hair on it while smirking. Apparenltly 'you have a stache' can be communicated through a language barrier.
He came, while we were making out fully clothed. I'm going to write a book.
Babe. You eat pussy like a god warrior sent from a galaxy far far away to destroy female genitalia with new realms of pleasure. That's how I know your not gay.
I don't even care that his girlfriend will be there. Us hooking up is a tradition and she will NOT ruin it.
My public calorie counter app is pretty much just a cry for help.
And apparently i asked another younger guy at the bar if he wanted his bud light pumped straight into his vag. As i put back an irish car bomb...
I totally gave him head in sync to Beastie Boy's Sabotage playing in the background.
I really shouldn't be this use to hearing "YOURE THAT GIRL?!?!"
HE TRIED TO HIT ME WITH A CHAIR. Stoned video games are NOT happening again
I'm never going to adult. I'm staying a child. The only thing related to adult that I want to do is you.
there is a smiley face on my leg painted in blood
I'm pretty sure that's yours.
She's the prison bitch to my Martha Stewart.
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