Its about making memories worth repressing
Hello wreck, this is your train calling.
No, no, no. Fuck you. I took a glass blowing class solely to learn how to make that bong. You shattered it and my dreams in a matter of five seconds.
I know. They started calling me The Incident. The hotel maids, that is.
On a scale of zero to "unmitigated disaster," how drunk is he?
I didnt finish. My brain kept playing the duck tales theme thru the entire blow job
I don't know what I was talking about but I just threw up in ikea. You can't get out of this place it's a fucking labyrinth.
Her neighbors? They're nice. Young family. Tried not to get puke on their side of the lawn.
He said that he made a girl squirt to the ceiling and I got curious
You are in a fancy European city. The best way to truly experience the city is through Tinder
I swear, the guy behind me wasn't paying attention until the words "middle aged fuckboy" came out of my mouth.
ill give you some hints: blood, carnival, fog machine, happy meal.
I'm assuming you were here at some stage because I woke up alone, clean and in a towel with mum asking my why my shoes, dress and jewellery were in the bottom of the shower.
I told the cop I was late for a booty call. He still gave me a ticket but he wrote his number on it
Okay. Did I say I did anything unusual? Because I usually do weird stuff. Did I clean mirrors? My mirrors are really clean, and I think I remember having windex..
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