After I talked about my ex for about twenty minutes, she just listened, sluts are so understanding
I wish facebook had a fuck off button.
I do regret it. But I can't unfuck her
i kind of just want to tell my cleaning lady I'm an alcoholic so it's not awkward when I stumble out of my room to go sit in my car for 2 hours and wait for her to finish cleaning the several empty bottles of wine in my room
Now accepting hypotheses about how i managed to get a bruise between my boobs....
Nope, I'm sticking to passive aggressive punishments. Like mismatching his socks and cumming on his leather couch. OCD is so wonderful.
Just so we're clear this time around: This is dinner with my FAMILY. Not an opportunity for you to drink too much, and use the word "dick-thumpin" in casual conversation.
I deem her datable let the dance of attraction commence
So update from last night: I made friends with a coke dealer, I tore the card scanner off the wall of my dorm, and I passed out on our bathroom counter with my head in the sink.
I hate it when fuck holes buy me drinks at the bar. You don't know my order. You don't know me. You don't know where I've been. You don't know my life.
but they dont look like handprints. looks like someone had a boxing match with my tits and my tits lost
I found a blow up pig at an adult store. He will have to fuck that on video if he wants anal. Also, I bought a pair of clear high heels. Tell your brother I love him.
Asking me to suck on my nipples isn't going to make me less mad at you.
Why in the hell is there a guy dressed up as a horse passed out in our kitchen.
happy birthday!
Who the abstract fuck do you think you are!?
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