Remember that dream I told you about where I shit out my own skeleton? I had it again last night.
Five things that make you perfect. Go.
The skin of a dead hooker. The blood of the innocent. The soul of a kitten. The hat from cat in the hat. And sunglasses.
She just got back from rehab. You dont celebrate that with margaritas.
don't you miss freshman year when you could get away with "but i've never given a bj before..."
dude just did a line with screech. dude is fucking creepy
she left around the point i tried to tie her hair around my dick
I drove 5 hours to see her. She thanked me by getting shitfaced, inviting her boyfriend over, and making me sleep on the couch after I cooked for them and did the dishes. You're right. I'm a fucking doormat.
It was his birthday and he drunkenly offered me Portillo's and diamonds in exchange for a snap chat of my boobs. Even sober it seemed like a good idea at 3 in the morning.
Also, I've finally come to the point in the relationship when having sex with socks on is ok.
Update: just imagined being dirty talked to in an Irish brogue and I think my vagina became a sentient being.
I'm pretty happy on the couch eating Popeyes and watching Cops so if I go over there you better have drugs left
I'm still not sure how to feel about the fact that we had a threesome with a guy the same age as my dad
Anne is dead. totally passed out and was flat out in the street
he was almost the father of your baby, you should let him take you to dinner
I'm really stressed out right now.
I think you're confusing "stressed" and "sober".
Randomize
