I'm not sure how exactly, but this funeral has turned into a ridiculous night of drinking games
He jacked off on my pillow when he found out I left. It was like coming home and finding that your dog, with separation anxiety, had pooped in your shoes. I think I'm flattered...
I really shouldn't have to apologize. It was your own damn fault for opening a tab at the bar and telling me about it.
But mostly fuck him senseless. Render him speechless. Have him look at my vagina and wonder, "WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?!"
FYI, grandma is already drunk and using a bed sheet as a table cloth.
Hey, if I'm gonna bastard a child and ruin his life, I'm going balls out.
Took three klonopin and turned all my jeans into jorts. I miss you
I actually haven't slept with anyone in a while. I think my whore phase is just seasonal.
Update: just imagined being dirty talked to in an Irish brogue and I think my vagina became a sentient being.
I almost got an A in organic chem but started hallucinating during the final so I got a C
I have a knack for carnage and poetic language.
He walked in on me masturbating and on my phone but got mad because I wasn't watching porn just tweeting
The only thing I want for my birthday is a divorce from you.
the fact that I can still put my shoes on is a testament to the fact that I can outdrink these bros
Never. No amount of alcohol could convince my brain and eye sight that it is okay to fuck him. I'd rather fuck my cousin.
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