So A**** bought my story about how my hickey was a bruise from wrestling
on one hand i'm glad that i'm not in trouble...on the other hand i realized that the reason i cheat on her is because she is so stupid
i find it a beautiful talent that i know how much pubic hair the girl in the next stall has just from the sound of her urine
i feel like someone uncorked me like a wine bottle and pulled a living animal outta my arse.
Would we rather be in rehab with the drug addicts or the girls with low self esteem?
you kept screaming i cant feel my vagina, it kinda killed the mood.
I'm pretty sure whiskey overrules bulimia in the eyes of Texas boys
I'm concerned I'll look like a hooker on new years eve in this outfit
There are different standards on new years eve. To look like a hooker you literally need to be giving a guy head on the street while he's handing you cash.
If I pissed all over some chicks bed I would probably apologize for getting so wasted, not putting out, and turning into a god damn R. Kelly Cinderella... Not ask for coffee and a ride home.
Hold on. At Sephora trying to decide what despair smells like.
I think we r still a few steps from ex sex. In fact, that's never going to happen. I'm just saying on the seething-chemical-fire-of-emotional-distress-to-post -relationship-intercourse scale, I'm closer to fucking than throttling. Progress is fun.
Nothing like coming home and finding the nearly full bottle of fireball you forgot you had stashed before your trip
It's the little things
I nicknamed her "Jackhammer" for the way she gave me a handjob. My balls were in constant pain
I started the day with dreams of getting laid and ended it with the reality of eating Taco Bell in my bed with my dog.
Status: mom bitching about grandma not shutting the fuck up, while not shutting the fuck up. Dear Jesus give me strength or more bourbon.
Don't be weirded out, but my bondage straps are made of my ex boyfriend's curtains
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