I feel like death. And death is wearing a fleece blanket as a dress. And is seriously contemplating wearing this to go get something to eat.
im gonna call it quits for tonight... I am so drunk I dont even have the motor skills to masturbate
He texted me for drugs this time. Not sex. I dunno if I should be pleased it's not sex or disappointed that I come across as a druggie
You were wasted and fell in a pond when you met him, it's not like you were on top of your game
I feel like I've been drunk all of June. And I am in NO WAY ashamed about it.
You grinded on me in Jimmy johns to a madonna song.
At this point I will cuddle anything to prevent from dying alone
I'm pretty sure my lung is caught on my rib. And I can't feel the left side of my face. Best. Sex. Ever.
Front seat of an Escalade in a limo-service parking lot. That is all.
The 78 year old woman who works next to me divorced her ex husband, remarried her first husband, and retired all in one day. I'd say it makes your breakup on Valentine's day pretty insignificant.
I'm closer to stabbing a fork in my neck than finishing this resume.
So I had sex with a hook nosed, lisping masadonian last night.
Glad that degree in literature is paying off. Nice adjectives. Maybe set the bar a little higher though?
I DID MY EXPERIMENTING. FOUR YEARS OF IT. IN HIGH SCHOOL.
She's asleep in a fisher-price toy car
my mom just came into my room and handed me a news paper article about women on the verge of a drinking problem... i can already tell its not about to be sunday funday
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