john hughes is dead. crushing any and all dreams of me ever being in an 80's john hughes film. bummer.
I mean, I'd wanted to go skinny dipping, hook up with him and have sex on a beach, so last night I basically killed 3 birds with one super slutty stone.
My wrist bandage is guacamole stained. What an accurate representation of my life as a whole
My parole officer gave me condoms and a Starbucks gift card ... happy holidays.
do you remember the combo for the lock to my pants?
I thought he wouldn't talk to me again. You know, what's that saying "why buy the cow when you can fuck it six hours after meeting"
I don't think it's considwred fine dining when you're passing out at golden palace in chinatown at 4 am with you boss who happens to be wearing a dress.
I found him in bed on a pullout couch with another dude. He had two empty puke buckets and his empty bottle of jagermeister right by his head.
And I'd make him talk dirty to me. In Forrest Gump's voice.
It's a goat... but where the fuck did it come from?
Someone touched my vagina when we were out last night. The fact that it was you is inconsequential and I am still counting it as a pull.
I wanna send them a card but I don't think hallmark makes a "sorry your fiance and another girl blew me at the same time in a frat house but congrats!" card
I need someone to sew my vagina shut until I'm responsible enough to use it
There are peanut butter donuts now. We are playing with forces we can't possibly understand.
Want a bet? I'm a kinky and determined motherfucker with a libido that is not easily stopped
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