Im going to bring a boy home tonight, and not tell him that I have my period. So when he tries to fuck me, I say no, and look really classy. Then he thinks I'm marriage material. So I give him head.
So after the reception we snuck back into the church for drunken hook up. we passed out there and woke up in time for 6am mass still dressed from the wedding. spiritually trashy or classy?
I woke up with a crunchy, pink Pepto streak through my hair, no recollection of the last 6 hours of my night and the feeling that all the hotel's staff knew me on a first name basis.
I rarely go in there. Unless it's for mini cadbury eggs and whiskey.
Kate gave me a 3 day old cup of tequila last night and forced me to chug it. P.s. i drew u a picture
i told him i was allergic to semen. he pulled out an epipen.
i looked at my phone & had a message that said "tell your friend she needs to clean my livingroom, i dont appreciate her trying to turn it into a bubblebath." I give you probs.
I don't really want to have sex with him, I'd just want him in a threesome. Does that make sense?
He followed me on twitter after I posted a drunk screen shot of a tweet. It's like he gave me permission to stalk him on a whole different level.
I woke up this morning and I had the absolutely horrific realisation that I am the human incarnation of scrappy doo
i was so high when i left this morning that rather than make sandwiches i threw bread and peanut butter in my backpack. a whole loaf. and a whole jar
he's the kind of guy you give a fake number to and he still finds out your real number anyway...
If he wants a future he'd best figure out the calendar function on his phone. If he can invite you to his penis he can invite you to his google cal.
don't worry, i'll dog sit again, the barking made the sex better, its like he was cheering for us, we were just THAT good.
No bra. No panties. Makeup from last night. At work right now. I am trash.
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