My morning has consisted of lying in a fetal position, eating a whole tub of ben and jerry's, talking to my cat, and setting all of our pictures on fire. Does that answer your question?
Now I have to picture Dave Letterman having sex with all these women. Im the real victim.
Hes still mad that I left the room mid-hookup to go get a pickle from the fridge.
He's stoned as shit, eating breakfast cereal and taking a dump. All while listening to dubstep. We may never understand him.
well, duh, but it's like you don't even want to see me masturbate with a wine bottle.
i just remember doing it on a pile of clothes while i heard the muffled sound of his friend laughing. then i realized we were in a closet.
He did not appreciate the "you did reuse the diamond" comment when looking at his new fiance's ring.
I don't remember much of last night. But I woke up with very apologetic texts from him this morning so apparently I didn't get laid. Which is stupid.
there is vodka in my soul right now. The vapor is coming out my nose.
I'm wearing spiderman underwear, the question is what am I NOT capable of
he stole a smokey from the street meat vendor and put it in his pocket when she wasn't looking and now we're drinking avocado margaritas
at one point while they were drilling into my jaw I just remember thinking "will I ever be able to suck dick again"
We are back but we are listening to stairway to heaven in my car. Amy is air drums. Be back when it's over.
is it bad that im laying on a beach towel in my room with my lights on high pretending to be tanning on the beach in the summer?
If I have put a neon “vacancy” sign on my skirt for him to get the picture I will.
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