we didnt fuck last night. again. seriously, his place is like where dreams go to die.
i sleep in a fine layer of vodka and semen. i don't know that that would appropriate for a pajama rally.
It'll be just me and my penis against the world.
Someone painted a weed leaf on my leg with red paint. Or blood. I hope paint.
Holy fuck just found a used tampon in the leg of my pants. it's not paint. It's. Not. Paint.
If we both finish he brings me a beer and cookies, if only he finishes I get wine and cheesecake. I think I'm in love.
I drink to make the karaoke go away.
You're the common denominator of my blackouts.
A milkman. But instead of milk I'm delivering marijuana. And instead of a milk truck it's an armored car.
You're a weed delivery man, in an armored car?
After what I experienced at 6am this morning, all I can say is chew your noodles thoroughly.
It wasn't even dirty talking, it was more like the soothing gentle nonsense noises you make when you've spooked a horse.
Well I either feel like the fat girl or very accomplished because his bed is now broken in three places
I don't know why I bit your face last night but I'm sorry .
I accidentally told my mom I broke my drug nail this weekend
She started waving a nerf rifle around and demanding free booze.
I just met his mom for the first time with a hang over. Then we went to watch his 8 year old cousin get baptized. Apparently his family loves me. I should drink more often.
Randomize
