Last night I fell down in the street (I think in someone's vomit), cut my knee up, lost my moms necklace and my license, and had to walk back to the hotel.
I just remember getting him back by licking the window on his truck.
He just brought me a wine glass. Full of Tequila. Ignore any texts after this one.
First of all...stop making excuses. Second of all...Fuck the surgeon generals warning
I just used celery as a chaser. That's the level of my refrigerator.
please promise me that no matter what happens you will keep me away from the children
you flashed my boyfriend last night so i tackled you to the floor. you may be a bit sore.
You need to simmer down or I'm going to buy you a labia leash.
You threw an open can of pop at me while I was lying on the floor babbling and drooling about how I need to be alone forever, me and my leaking face.
The leasing office is hiring, so I gave them my resume and class schedule. I doubt they'll call me considering last summer at their "exotic animal" pool party I marched in with a funnel and demanded the employees chug. I doubt they've forgotten.
My last two google searches are "shiny things" and "Ohio consent laws." you should visit more often.
I walked into a McDonalds at 8:30 am with a half-eaten apple and a solo cup. Never felt so judged.
It's gameday bitch. Man up.
Yepp, I had to be the one to explain that the girl who was slapping people in the face with a dildo was my drunk girlfriend.
The housekeeper found my huge dildo under the bathroom sink, and another in the living room. I can't get much more single than this.
I think I'm emotionally ready to start being a slut again. I'm excited.
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