the next time i see a chick with leggings under her jean skirt...i'm gona beat her ass with a fashion magazine...
i have absolutely no control over my now miserable and whore-ish lifestyle.
i love that when i tell my kids and grandkids about how we first met it will be about this little thing called a "poke" on facebook
I had forgotten what it was like to go to all four classes. It's exhausting.
Vaginas are confusing as hell with all their secret compartments and shit.
I'll get my vaginal cartography poster.
was it you or me who tried to make the, what appears to be, nacho cake in the oven?
By getting lucky do you mean I get one of your incredible BJs or you not killing me by the end of dinner?
We fucked on a kid's slide, my vagina is singing praises of being used
I was so fucked up last night that I peed on his FATHER'S BED and fell asleep there. and yes. his father was asleep in the bed
No. DON'T DO IT. Friends don't let friends fuck clowns.
Who the fuck watches Jessica jones and thinks I need to call a past fling?
Do you ever just feel the storm building inside of you that tells you you're ready for a giant indiscriminate fuckfest?
At what point can I admit that I hate going to house parties?
I don't wanna stand in your shitty kitchen making small talk while I guard the quality booze I brought.
I'm giving drunk me full control of my body for the next few days. Please don't let me die.
I wanna get to the point where I can just send a question mark and get an exclamation point in response
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