he was persistant. I supposedly owe him a bj from high school.
When I got to his place, he served wine and cheese and made me sit on the balcony while he read his poetry to me. He cockblocked himself.
I don't care how hungover you are were not listening to enya
apparently i found nail polish and started playing a game i made up called "paint a nail, do a shot"
Ya know, I lied. I wouldn't mess with him. Not because of the crazy/rehab issues... but because he wears tank-tops.
well when mom kept referring to my "black hole of a vagina" and how i devoured all the nuts at the party like i was a pro, i figured my stay was up.
You can't just send the picture of my vagina back to me, 2 months after we broke up, and make small talk out of it.
I would compare it to a jeffrey but in smoothie form. More drugs in here than Bobby Brown's sock drawer.
So much for doing Irish car bombs in my grandpa's memory.... Asshole.
After a roaring rendition of Jay-Z's "99 Problems but a bitch ain't one" I ended up making her cry on her birthday.
He is nice. Kind of short though. But didn't try to rub his jean cock on me.
Which I appreciated.
In that state of mind I managed to bounce back from getting hit by a golf cart and convince an investigations officer that I was okay to go into the game.
I just fell in love with a beard, the guy it's attached to isn't great but I think I'm going to take one for the team
I think we ended 5-7 relationships as well this weekend...so another good stat
I answered the booty call in my Trophy Wife cutoff and my ex-boyfriends sweatpants with a bottle of jager.
and how was that received?
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