I gambled and lost. Had to pull into a funeral home to clean up with a copy of my resume.
Leaving the dealer's house. He just gave me a sincere hug and said good luck. This cant end well.
He literally didn't stop until I lost count of how many times he made me orgasm. It took three hours.
the size of his penis is telling me NOOO! but his bank account is telling me YESSS!
when she asked where we met, i said the liquor store. the next words out of moms mouth? 'oh that's real promising molly'
he puked in my glove box, looked up at me and said "There's not much to say"
Is there any chance I can see you without pouring vodka on your head?
We stuck the straw in the bourbon as a joke, you saw it as a challenge.
Like I had to call my dad because I couldn't manage to unlock the door. And when he got there to open it I was climbing the gate to get in.
It's a "nonproductive" (vocab word) cough. It's like a constant tickle in my throat, like there's a little elf with feathers for feet going Gangnam style on my "uvula" (vocab word).
It will be too late. I will have fornicated with the enemy by then.
Well, I currently have zero fuckboys and my vibrator just broke. A fresh start to May.
Think of the things uve done in the past. And ask urself "have I done worse?" If u answer yes. Its perfectly ok.
I need a sign that says “please don’t make plans with me if I’ve had two or more drinks. I will regret them. I will have bitter feelings towards you. Then I will cancel and feel guilty.”
Gotta go, there’s a chick at my door that wants to give me head
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