A guy at the bar bought me a jag bomb because I'm the chick that frosts his donuts at KT. Never have I been more proud of being a failure at life.
Every perfect package comes with a warning label.
Never again will we have slut saturday. Never.
If this herpes test comes back negative I'm asking out the doctor.
just found a bag of Oreos in my purse labeled "emergency".
But today feels so special with katie getting herpes and me cleaning my room. Good things are happening.
I'm like a savant for remembering names I learned while I was drunk. Seriously, I'm three for three. I'm on a roll.
I decided staying home, watching porn and masterbating was a much better choice than the gym. And I was right.
I have a lot of questions this morning, most of them start with "Did I..."
Dude too much vodka. I think I just puked up my heart
That's what you get for taking that guy home. The god of sluttiness is frowning upon you.
When he couldn't get it up, he handed me a beer, put his clothes back on, and said "try again tomorrow."
Well, he didn't buy me a birthday present but he sure did give me chlamydia so there's that.
I find nice boys who are in extremely long term relationships with nice girls, wait for them to break up, and sneak in for the rebound fucking.
You are like a terrifying jaguar of sex. Predatory.
Do you remember trying to eat the shower curtain last night...?
you yelled, puked and cried then passed out in the fetal position in your underwear
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