I have demons in me.
she made me take her to the grocery store to buy a gallon of sweet tea and a shit ton of band aids, the cashier asked if someone was hurt and she replied "not yet.."
So can we talk about how we all three made out with the bike taxi driver in lieu of paying him. I'm not even mad, that's resourceful. You know what married girls would have had to do? They'd have had to pay.
I can't live in this building much longer. People are starting to figure out that it's me making the weird sex noises.
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We bonded over blowjobs and stories of our childhoods. It was beautiful.
Donating $10 to Sandy victims for every hurricane I drink tomorrow. Buying me alcohol just became a good cause.
Your dick is going to fall off. Be careful or you'll get callouses. A workingman's dick.
Well, after emptying the contents of my stomach into a fucking rose bush, the only things moving through my digestive system are pills, coffee, and my own lip gloss. If that gives you any idea what kind of a day I'm having.
I was hoping for a marriage proposal... Or at least an offer to sleep in his bed.
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The other night he asked if I had a condom and I said I had an IUD. and he goes OMG A BOMB?
I finished masturbating now I'm eating french toast crunch. What is life, and what are friends.
Finding out you're not a mother on Mother's Day >>>
he just fucked me for my cheese.
What shade of lipstick clearly states, I'm only attending this wedding for the drugs and groomsmen?
This is your post bachelor party survival text. This a free and complementary service to make sure you are still alive. For alive, say yes. For hurting, say ugh. If lost, say help. If dead, please feel free to not respond. Thank you and we hope you enjoyed the party.
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