Tampa is so boring. I'm dying. I want lots of cleavage at my funeral. If i cant get laid, i want my friends to. I'm that kind of person
I stumbled into my living room at 4 a.m. to find him hurling my laptop across the room and his pants around his ankles. Clearly his night didn't go as planned.
The dry cleaners wouldn't even take our clothes. That's how bad of a night it was.
I can't look at him without thinking about his cum face
Walt said he was feeding me so I wouldn't die. that's why there was pasta in my room
Maybe just the first 2 wks of Nov can be dick detox.
Debating going to the grocery store with my vibrator still in, cause I can't stand the idea of it out. Lets do some risk/reward
i told her i loved her afterwards and she said "i know," kissed me, and got up to start making breakfast.
dude, she han solo'd you. keep her.
Question #1: Why am I on my living room floor? Question #2: Where did the bloody footprints come from? Question #3: Why are there two McChickens next to the wine bottle?
In retrospect i can confidently say that the last two months of our relationship... i was only in it because i didnt wanna lose my list on his netflix account.
The doctor basically called me a dirty dick.
The moment when you and your BFF compare frequently used emojis and realize you have similar mental disorders and a really weak alibi.
And thanks for putting me in that safety position on the bathroom floor while I was spooning the toilet
A real best friend would support the hoe in me. Not remind me of what happened the last time I slept with a boss
I think I may have gotten way too used to using my boobs as an extra hand/pocket...almost stabbed myself in the chin bc I forgot I put my fork there
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