Tonight i am praying for god to turn my pussy into apple pie because i cant count the number of times bruce chooses food over sex.
I'm drinking red wine & feeding anchovies to the dog. I'm really not picky about what kinda of company I'm in.
Became best friends with the hotdog stand creeper outside the bar. Cried and told him my feet hurt too much to walk home then begged him to hire me.
In a cab. Towels everywhere. Confused.
Woke up with his dick on the side of my face, it's like he passed out mid-mushroom stamp.
He Facebook stalked his way right into my pants.
Moment of the day: as we leave the restaurant, she reaches into my pocket, pulls out her panties, and angrily marches to her car. I felt like a sketchy magician.
hes duct taped to the wall and we're throwing eggs at him. i love thirsty thursday.
He ate the contents of an ashtray and didn't puke, I think he can handle drinking a fifth to himself.
I've spent all afternoon taking and editing selfies. The life of a bimbo is truly tiring.
Sounds like either a very good Friday night or a very bad Saturday morning.
Can I just keep holy water in the night stand next to the vibrator?
I'm scrolling through our convo thread and all we talk about is pizza, alcohol & dick with the occasional "I miss you" thrown in.
I know how to kill a man with nutmeg and a sword. You in?
Or nah
Nice classy night out before we roll our faces off
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