This is getting serious. I keep forgetting what's in my vagina.
TRUE LIFE: my roommate is growing a bush.
better yet, TRUE LIFE: my roommates boyfriend begged her to grow a bush.
That taco smell coming from your belly button was a huge turnoff
the more i look through evidence of last night, the less i seem to remember.
Or I die of a heart attack, which is the more likely/less fun scenario.
It was the most graceful puke ever. I just thought she dropped something underneath the bar until she told me what happened.
her tits were more amazing then brown bears with armor and guns that fire bullets of Justice that destroys inequality.
I don't know his last name, but he's in phone as Pat the conqueror.
I thought adderall would sober me up, but it did NOT.
but, alas, I am not the lady in the streets. I'm simply the freak in the sheets.
Speaking of, what are you doing next weekend? I'm going to a rope bondage seminar and may need a partner if my date bails.
Also, I found this app that is basically a tamagochi from the 90's and now I finally have something to keep me busy at work!
Like I could never be a lawyer because I would just look like a porn star impersonation of a lawyer.
99% of the contents of my handbag are ketchup packets and condoms. I feel that says a lot about me as a person.
WHY DON'T YOU WANT TO BE MY ESKIMO BRO
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