Bel-fucking-mar, this place has more popped collars than a Hollister catalog
the only evidence i have from this weekend existing is a title page for a novel i tried writing called "the oyster who gave up drinking"
Bookstore boy and I went out, he came back here and I tried to fool around and he respects me too much blah blah I'm a predator.
we're on our way back. she tried to pants the waiter again.
You act like I'm the first person to try and hook up with a blind chick.
pretty sure if my vagina had a mouth, it would have been smiling afterwards.
Plus my stomach has been speaking through my ass all day sending notes saying "fuck you" and "this is from your liver" or "i will kill you."
I am so hung over a medically induced coma is beginning to sound appealing.
He just asked me if he's allowed to flirt with me. That's how whipped he is.
Jacked up my neck and shoulder hanging on for dear life while I rode him like a boss. Plus my house smells like broccoli, bad! How's YOUR morning?
Her son walked into the middle of the living room, took off his diaper, shit on the floor, smiled at me, and walked out, as if nothing happened.
So date night went well?
there was a goddamn geisha at house. my dick feels more cultured.
Turns out he's actually a she. Might keep dating her just to see Mom's reaction.
She handed me scissors and told me that they were the ones with the lowest probability of having been used to trim someone's pubes.
I need to find a divorced guy with a boat and let my tits do the talking
Randomize
