the beat of "birthday sex" is shockingly similar to my dry heaving rhythm. it's making me nauseous all over again.
I mean this holiday was built on cheap beer, shitty whisky, and processed meat... and I fully plan to honor that
Homecoming wouldn't be the same without all the drunk old people puking on the street.
Also, new rule: You are no longer allowed to send me a text with the word "dildo" in it before 10am.
Well you just missed the ten chi o pledges singing la bamba at our doorstep.
I tried to get you something for Valentine's Day too but they said they couldn't deliver skittles and ecstasy :(
I pull out like 90% of the time, but that's just to make art.
Seriously, I want to give you a plaque thanking you for your dedicated service to my vagina.
Just for future reference, me asking if you're free, followed by a winking face is not my way of suggesting a tandem bike ride.
You know I think I am ok with him not moving in yet. He came over, fixed my closet, ate me out, and left. I'm now in sweats drinking coke and rum and watching new girl. This works for me.
We can get high as fuck when there are no orders. If not its cool. I just figured Take Your Blunt Buddy To Work Day.
You wrote me a check. For zero dollars. For my soul. Dick.
I wonder how horrible I look to customers. There's cuts all over my face and I can't talk.
What are the cuts from? Head-butting the bathroom light fixture?
Honestly that's best case scenario.
Sunburned by dick at the nude beach. Bad. She tried to blow me. But. I. Just. Can't. Saddest day of my life.
I’m home. Please don’t call me unless you have an arterial bleed or you’re on fire. Love you 😘
Randomize
