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.
at which point I apparently ran in and shouted "I made the sex with that one!"
What I thought it would be sexy pouring melted chocolate down here chest, ended up in second degree burns. Hot food and sex do not mix.
I have bruises covered in glitter and someone just asked me if I realized I'm bleeding from both ears. This is awkward.
Evidently I told a girl she should leave the bar because no one wanted to fuck her.
I was informed that last night we held hands while puking on the curb outside the bar.
We just have a real special relationship.
Oh damn. God have mercy on everything w a dick in a ten mile radius.
It's okay. My lingerie drawer is skanky enough for the two of us. Even across borders.
I can smell the sangria seeping out of my pores
All is fair in love and war and toga parties
Those nachos came to me in a dream
I force fed him french fries and then proceeded to tell him how sexy corgi’s are … it’s safe to say he’s not texting me for a second date.
I danced shirtless on a platform with a fucking stripper who went to MIT
MDMA, margaritas, mashed potatoes and ice cream aren't keto Kristin
I woke up to him watching me sleep and after I told him it was over he asked if we were still on for Vegas next weekend
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