I'd rather watch my mom take a shit while reading the sunday new york times than watch mama mia .
the recession has oofficially hit my standards.
I think we should urban dictionary "drive of shame." It involves a sprint to your car in his underwear and shirt, surreptitiously trying to put on your bra on at stoplights without attracting attention from neighboring cars, and lurking in your car a block from home so you can know when your roommate leaves for work.
If I die on my trip, you're my chosen person. Nightstand-vibrators. Computer-iphoto naked pictures. I hope you feel honored.
So the night ended when we tried making fireworks out of gunpowder and oregano. You can figure out how that went.
I took my exam the next day still drunk and failed, but I kno for a fact that I filled in the bubbles for my name perfectly
I don't know at which point last night turned terribly, terribly wrong, but it was somewhere around Motel 6, specifically the parking lot.
My mom got me high and then dropped me off at a church.
I've abandoned trying to find a logical explanation of your life.
P.S. I just made up pleasure scepter for the purpose of that last message.
The length of my leg hair is a constant reminder of how long it's been since I even thought I had a chance of getting laid.
I think I broke my hip playing drunk ping pong
Hey, I'm renting a storage locker for the summer to keep all my bondage shit in so my parents don't see it. You wanna split on it for your all your weed shit?
Nothing worse then being at the gym on the elliptical next to a guy looking at porn on his phone
I shaved my pussy for you. If you complain about a single hair that I missed again, you will be greeted by a bush the next time you go down on me and i will MAKE YOU KEEP GOING
No joke. There's a picture of the priest I made out with on my parents' refrigerator.
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