Apparently Chef Boyardee is the only guy I'm taking home tonight.
I wish they had a "No Yankees" filter on status updates.
Sitting next to a retarded hot married man on the plane, I got 6.5 hrs to homewreck this shit.
The dry cleaners wouldn't even take our clothes. That's how bad of a night it was.
He called me while he was having sex and asked if I wanted to go get mcdonalds
I can't talk to her. I know entirely too much about her genitals to hold a conversation without mentioning them.
I kind of want to throw a lot of things at him. Mostly blunt, heavy objects.
Why were my jeans in the freezer of the mini fridge, and how long have they been in there? On another note, I found my teacher's ID badge.
We turned a watering can into a margarita bong.
The internet is out at West Chester so I'm masturbating using my imagination. What is this, the fucking dark ages?
So far I consider it a great summer because I have had to buy Plan B a total of zero times
I should be free tonight unless my 5 speed vibrator arrives in the mail today, than we might have scheduling conflicts.
He just stopped me mid blow job so he could text his wife asking for TacoBell.
She thinks I cheated on her 10 years ago in a past life lmao
I really love you. Like, more than tequila...& we both know that's my favorite.
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