our conversations pretty much only consist of the phrase 'fuck you'. and the sex is fantastic. we've got a great thing going here.
I just want to point out that nothing makes my hickie/hangover more obvious than sleeping in a scarf and sunglasses. nothing.
I just threw up blood. Also i just remembered i got hit in the face with a 2 by 4.
I should have questioned it early on when they said bring beer and chocolate syrup
so gross sitting on a warm chair at a restaurant..you just know a fat person was sitting there shoveling food into their face for hours.
I'm drunk off vodka and I haven't eaten today. I've never felt more like Kirsten Cohen in my life.
That final makes me want to drink myself into the fetal position
I keep jumping up and down in front of the mirror naked. The only motivation I would be to stop and put clothes on is if you come over. Hurry.
Driving you two to the party with a keg belted into the back seat has given me a brief glimpse of parenthood. I am now more resolved than ever to never breed, so thanks for that.
Deciding whether to take my sex toys home for Christmas will be the biggest decision I make this holiday season
I seriously doubt this is the first time pumpkin pie has led to a booty call.
The perfect man would keep a whisky sour in my hand and give me endless sex. I really don't think that's too much to ask for.
There should be a Doritos delivery van or something.
I woke up to half of the whiskey bottle gone, and apparently I showered in my clothes. Pretty good start to SB2015 I'd say?
Your shirt... Was in my pants
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