I woke up this morning with "guy in polar bear j.crew boxers" written on my stomach along with a 5 digit phone number...
My main thought on the Olympics: I need LESS cowbell.
just fought my dog for the chicken pie I dropped on the floor.
We could make it a date. Dinner and a show. The show being my nipples getting pierced.
I ended up with a bullet proof vest and I still don't know his last name.
I'm beginning to think the entirety of my appeal is due to the size of my ass.
I just saw a stripper light her nipples on fire. Im terrified and impressed all at the same time
i don't remember going ever taking off my pants but my pubes are shaved into a K and kelsey is passed out in the shower.
Shout out to this stomach virus for helping me prepare for whatever slutty Halloween costume I decide to wear.
You just gave me the title for the series of our lives. Haha. Chapter 12: the cocaine on the back of the hairbrush
We had a One Night Stand 6 months ago but he just Facebook invited me to his wedding. Who the fuck does that.
Although can we find me a starter dick? I don't want security showing up again. That was awkward.
dude. i woke up on a random lawn wearing only my boxers, with all my clothes hung in the branches of a nearby tree... no more shrooms
Where can I buy a stripper pole at midnight on a Sunday?
His hair is as curly as mine. It was like watching me go down on myself.
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