I woke up with spaghetti in my mouth
HOnestly. That's my one goal for this whole trip. I don't give a shit about souvenirs or sand. I want penis.
I've come to accept that no matter where I step in our apartment, your underwear will be there.
I totally just potholed and almost crashed while trying to lick salsa off my boob.
Anything you tell me within three minutes of an orgasm isn't even being recorded in my head.
My bathroom smells like artichokes and absinthe. I am naming a perfume after you and using the money to buy new towels.
I'm drinking coffee out of a pasta sauce jar and eating fruit soaked in Smirnoff. I think I've hit rock bottom.
Being hungover in this office is the actual worst. Like they look at me and know I was wasted at 1 am, karaokeing Billy Idol at a gay bar.
I just turned down a booty call because I'm having a Star Wars movie marathon
Dude.. She just busted into my house wearing a ski mask, a poncho, and thigh-high pink hooker boots and yelled, "THE CABS ARE HEEERRREEE!!"
Haha holy fuck. i dont remember much after pissing on your ex's flaming nude pics.
Seriously if we go to rome ur fucking me into the sunset on a wrought iron balcony overlooking Vatican City
I just put a pill up my vagina. It was little like a quail egg. There is so much happening up there right now.
I got home and he was wearing a suit. He said he reason was because it was shirt and tie Saturday and that he won't change until midnight. He then proceeded to answer the door in a British accent.
I suppose writing him up is more professional than keying his car.
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