I fucked a guy named chris tucker last night
i sleep in a fine layer of vodka and semen. i don't know that that would appropriate for a pajama rally.
So then I told him that only a restaurant managed by a florida fan could run out of ketchup
Where is my rescue team. I keep hiding shit. And I'm trying to give out shots of olive oil
Then, halfway through our conversation, I remembered what you drunkenly told me last night and was all "maintain eye contact, do not look at his massive penis".
It's like... Even my horoscope knows I had an awkward threesome last night.
I still feel like a bad person. A shoulder to cry on became a dick to suck.
It's official. Those are now your come fuck me flipflops
CAN I WEAR ASSLESS CHAPS TO SUNDAY BRUNCH OF JUDGEMENT????
All I can think about are the cheese it's on my desk at work this morning. Like are those apologetic cheese it's or does he seriously think he still has a shot..
Did you just email Kelly and I gay dinosaur erotica?
I'm so glad you haven't fallen off any more yachts
Apparently his version of saying "I'm Sorry" is streaking around our apartment building then asking for a blow job.....
Remember how I was complaining about how no guy has ever gotten me off?
I think I accidentally got a sugar daddy but I was already planning on sleeping with him so I’m going to see where this goes
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