i'm writing my speech about my 4th grade backstreet boy concert experience. that sums up how seriously i take my life.
Drunk. Just jacked off for the third time in an hour. I love not being Catholic anymore.
All signs point to mom being high. 1) making chicken at 2 am. 2) dancing to smooth jazz. 3) she asked where the peanut butter was
he made me scream out "#24" while we fucked...no more football players
And I'm also limping. I just wish that I had self control. I'm 23 for fuck sake and I'm sitting at work, with mascara down my face, vomit on my clothes and an unknown black substance on my tits. How will I ever find my Greek husband if I keep this up?
Its fiiine, tuesday is like the thursday of wine wednesday. And i mean, free beer for girls at the grove...im not NOT gonna take that offer up!
Look at your life. Look at your choices.
I'll be on pinterest all night planning crafty things to do with my cats in 10 years.
Directions to your booty call: go down the part of Route 66 that has all the car dealerships, motels and bad decisions, go past the Christian college and turn left at the Children's Center.
I'd risk everything I own for 10 min naked with her, 2 would be sex and the rest me crying like a little girl.
Please hurry. I'm the only one here who's not an attorney with a trophy wife.
I bought more beer than I could carry and managed to fit it all in the fridge. It's an alcoholicmas miracle.
I'll just go on tinder. Seeking strong male to help take apart ikea furniture and move. I'll touch your dick.
I checked her ID this morning. Lets just say...she's older than my mom
Come as you are, bitch. Glitter and vodka provided.
If the amount of time the owner spent looking at my tits is any indication, I’d say I can probably sleep my way to the top
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