Moan for me like Helen Keller
There's a walmart bag of my vomit outside my front door. I just really need someone to appreciate that with me.
I just fucked a rockette. This would have been amazing a week ago.
Ok...drunk girls at the bar are charging $1 for motorboating. It's fucking WEDNESDAY. I never want to leave.
We uncovered another pile of vomit after you left. And i am not talking about the one in the vase
and then he tried plucking my nose hairs. lines were crossed.
Just once I'd like to throw a party where I don't have to clean up someone else's blood the next morning.
We never did figure out who the stuff on the wall came from, did we?
Just resonded to a booty call with "how much effort is required on my part?" I think I've finally reached the point of smoking too much pot
Please don't judge me for my hormonal purchase, judge me for my awesome rack.
Sarah is throwing up still and I'm eating salad with my fingers
I know I come to this conclusion on a fairly regular basis but I really do need a babysitter
Well. Now I feel like I put pants on for nothing.
We took vodka shots. You kept saying it was the key to your heart.
And for the record I didn't even have sex last night. I threw up in his toilet and slept in his bed until noon
He doesn't have much of a personality but he makes up for it with his sexual prowess
keeper.
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