Decided to write a book called "girls don't poop and other myths I wish I still believed in"
while fucking on the counter the whip cream was conveniently right next to us. i love thanksgiving
I made him sleep with a condom on and i passed out on the carpet with only a bra on.
He sent a pic, I sent one back. Then nothing. It's like we sext-messaged goodbye and ended the relationship.
You were Q-tipping mashed potatoes out of your ear.
I just sniffled when I woke up and got a bump of coke. I have never felt so good hung over.
future-me showed up mid trip and gave us a thumbs up.
Matt says that there are strip club auditions in our living room and he'd like you to audition.
You are like a vicious sex animal persistently seeking prey
I'll remember. Also, I owe you 200 for a pair of shoes that I carelessly bought to improve my spinal structure, to improve my health and ensure that I love to be 300 years old. Like Adam. Of the bible.
I was figuring I'd break up with her after work, but before Taco Tuesday
75% of my food budget goes to wine, the rest to chips and salsa.
If drinking had a "new high score" I think I hit it this weekend.
conclusion: canadians have really freaky sex
It's official! Naked girl is back and making stir fry. Still not sure she realizes we can see her whole apartment from our balcony. Cheap beer and a show.
Randomize
