I seriously need to stop naming my lingerie sets after the boys I wear them for. I seriously just asked mom if she put Brett in the dryer
Dude, we somehow need to leave discretely with the toilet brush.
well the first picture of me in 2011 involves a viking helmet and chugging champagne. i like this year already.
I put labels all over the house on things I think are mine. A cactus, the dog, and a bottle of wine.
Her exstacy made her nickname everyone David. Nobody knows who the fuck she's talking to so we just say no to everything she says. She's crying.
i don't know. but im upstairs in the closet with a burger i found in their fridge
Doing lines of coke with a $100 dollar bill off a 6in x 9in photo of your childhood self really tells you where you where you've gotten in life.
Maybe he meant to say like I love fucking you? But just forgot the fucking part.. That's what I'm telling myself.
Yeah that doesn't involve enough booze, count me out
If you really loved me, you'd support my weed habit.
As the person who squeezed you out of my vagina, the answer is no.
I caught a glimpse of his penis. I can only imagine what your mom's vagina goes through because of that penis
I lost my bra, he lost his virginity. Seems like a fair trade off.
so go get some goddamn bacon and lay in his bed naked. he'll love it.
Random question, what's John-that-we-had-a-threesome-with's phone number? Don't necessarily need the full number, maybe just area code? Think I drunkenly ran into him last night and now I have texts from a John.
If it makes you feel any better I almost got kicked out of the bar for yelling "enjoy your celebratory incest"
I love you.
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