he just told me about his fetish for rubbing grape jelly on his penis.
My mom just bought me $200 worth of booze on the condition that I promise I won't have to go to rehab eventually
I feel like our low point of the night was when we had to start chasing with ice cubes and wheat thins.
He told me about how he pissed his pants last weekend like it was a normal part of conversation. Within 10 minutes I was going home with him. I think he put me under some kind of spell.
We would be rich. And the whole world would be stoned.
So yeah, don't be alarmed when you come home after work to find me eating cookie dough out of a margarita glass with a knife and watching The Little Mermaid. It's been one of those days.
You left a bit of molly on the table and my mom found it. She asked what it was, I said "not drugs"
She believed me because "leaving that much behind on the table would be a waste so obviously it's not drugs."
She's the perfect storm of great hair, big boobs, intellectualism, and mild moral ambiguity.
There is a video on my phone of me suckling a bag of wine from your crotch area while you say "The Body of Christ" in a Michigan accent. I vaguely remember being offended by this yet I did it anyway.
I decided taking Molly and seeing Birdman seemed like a wise life choice.
I didn't even mind that he came early I just wanted to get eaten out and cuddle
He referred to our sex as "an Olympic event." My tits are bruised.
Is it bad when your own grandmother calls you a whore?
I think sunday funday got a little out of control. There is cheese slices and BBQ sauce all over the roof and 4 empty bottles of vodka in my room.
Cat needed to get out last night. Walking to the door was too much effort so I encouraged (pushed) him to leave via window.
Isn't your room on the second floor?
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