@ a funeral. fucking miss uuuu
We stayed in and smoked weed and watched Dreamgirls. We made each other's vaginal lips sing the songs. Mine was Beyonce, hers was Jamie Foxx. I think this is one of those times you're jealous you're not an awesome lesbian.
My night sucks. It's really hard to masturbate with a broken finger.
I don't go on dates. I watch tv and play with dicks. dinner is a situation.
There was a photo of his face glued to a lifesize Kim Kardashian cutout. By the end of the night he was doing shots out of medicine cups and making everybody hug it goodbye.
He's a forty-something balding gay man with no boundaries or sense of social norms. Of course we should befriend him.
He walks in. We each have a tiki torch. We say, the tribe has spoken. We put his out and then stab him with it.
Your feet probs hurt bc the cab driver kicked us out a mile from home after you wouldn't stop screaming "prohibition can suck my dick"
Thou shall not get drunk and hit bitch cup in pong and take shirt off while wearing a see-through lace bra again
Bjs and tacos. That's my life.
Nothing like casual arson to brighten your day
I wanna get to the point where I can just send a question mark and get an exclamation point in response
When he identified himself as captain clitoris i knew my night was fucked.
anything below 65° is too cold to be naked on a roof
So I hung out with an australian but woke up with a British man in my bed does that make me culturalized
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