He only uses me for sexual pleasure. The sad part is I don't even feel like a slut. I just I feel like I should just live in the top drawer of his nightstand....for free of course.
It's not that drunk me is smarter; it's that sober me is secretly playing for the other team.
What are you doing? Because if it happens to be drinking, or even any activity that rhymes with "drinking", I'll be over in 5.
I'm going to sing sad and lonely Barbra Streisand songs at the top of my lungs if you don't get here soon
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I wish I'd realized he looked like Skrillex before I was already in the middle of fucking him...
Let's be honest, I am pretty sketchy looking.
You are cordially invited to an I'm not pregnant laser tag celebration tomorrow. booze is optional.
I feel like my cat and I are playing mind games. I need more friends.
After we hooked up he started to cry and called his mom and told her he wanted to marry me
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I showed up to a job interview wearing two different shoes. If that's not an omen, I don't know what is.
If I die tonight somebody's going to have to let all my tinder matches know.
i feel as though me waking up and asking her if i went to the hospital was a sign that i was not okay
She's kind of holyer-than-thou, like god himself came down and said "please cock block your roommate at every opportunity, and if you think she's thinking of sex, tell her she's a whore"
Apparently I gave a guy a hand job on the dance floor. ON THE DANCE FLOOR.
I am a unicorn in a field of flowers, you asshole.
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