Vomit. Vomit. Whatever. You wear a tiara in public.
And then I watched some old guy get arrested for meeting some other old guy for a blow job. It was epic.
I'll name the documentary, "The Adventures of Megan's Vagina"
Totally just asked Dad if I needed to show the real estate guy my tits so he would let us buy the house. I've really got to work on that filtering thing.
I can't really talk right now. I'm getting on a plane to Oregon to go give a guy a bj. I'll see you in three days.
I've come to the conclusion while folding laundry and watching porn that I may be dead inside.
It's like I just got slapped in the face with the cock of nostalgia.
I pulled my bra outta my purse. Covered in honey mustard. I still lack an explanation.
there is no excuse for drinking mascato in your room alone while listening to one-hit wonders from the 90s
Are you still feeling it? I'm in the bathtub. The water doesn't work but it's okay because I'm wearing pants.
I thought he was having it in Athens. Alright. Have fun. Please save my dignity and refrain from talking about my boobs and sexual "abilities". If I have any. I just feel like they are going to ask. Repeat after me. And repeat it 5 more times. This is going to be the phrase you're going to rely on tonight: "I can neither deny or confirm such actions."
My goal for the weekend: procure a blowjob using only stern glances, hand gestures, and crudely-drawn stick figures.
I find celibacy oppressive. Huge waste of my time and talents.
he drank half a bottle of bushmills, stood up to pee over the side, pissed his pants, sat in the puddle on the deck, told me my life goals were stupid and impossible, and wouldn't leave until 5am. by the time I got up at 8 I had 4 texts and 2 fb messages from him. AND HE STILL THINKS IT WENT WELL
Being single again makes you realize how guys can go from licking your asshole one night to never texting you again
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