Some broad at the bar just asked me how much money I make. I don't know whats worse, the question or the answer.
Remember that dream I told you about where I shit out my own skeleton? I had it again last night.
the young, male pastor of my church has a jesus fish tramp-stamp. I made him show me.
It's noon and i am somehow drinking by myself in a jazz tent in broad daylight.
Ah I wish I was there to nurse you then clean up your piss-filled water bottles
for some reason the bedside piss missed the water bottle today
just an fyi, false alarm on the whole ghonnorea thing. you're safe.
Never ever ever ever ever ever give your number to a 30 year old at buffalo wild wings. Ever ever ever.
Our date was amazing and I would like to reward you with a blow job under your desk.
I can pencil you in at 3:30
Also they do not have any come back to america, i miss my fuck buddy cards at Hallmark.
It's a never ending cycle of men I've fucked knowing other men I've fucked. I need a new town.
But I REALLY want to hide my crazy for as long as possible with him so he'll date me.
Btw...refried beans is a terrible thing to throw up.
He ran out to tell us that somebody flooded the bathroom, then went back in there fell on his ass and asked why the floor was wet
These guys are just fucking with my heart instead of fucking me. They're fucking up.
Wait, I'm confused. I EMPTIED the bottle? as in consumed it? I'm impressed with myself.
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