By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
I just had to ask my dad for money to pay for my birth control. I've hit financial rock bottom.
He probably smells like baby powder and sexual identity crisis.
I'm so glad I got to use the word gutterslut before 11:00a today.
First of all, I don't like eggnog. Second of all too much rum is all bad. And thirdly I'm not there to sit in your lap and pretend you are Santa and I've been a bad girl.
she did 8 shots of vodka. THROUGH A SIPPY STRAW
I have got to meet this girl.
Oh I love our desires, it's riding my bike at 2 AM with a massive erection that I dislike.
I'm just mad because I can't play gta5 all day tomorrow cuz I'll be in court testifying against a craigslist prostitute...
My life hurts
I woke up 30 minutes away from the bar, my car was at a train station, and when I got home all I got was the speechless head shake
I remember sitting in your lap naked saying I don't want to be all looks while you gently rocked me back and forth
at any given day I am at least 60% invested in my work. today I am staggered around 3.5%
Lynn just told me "I heard about your divorce. Condoms or morning pill your choice and I'm buying". Sorry but I got plans now bro.
I dunno. The drunker I get, the easier econ gets. I may be onto something here.
I had to dust off the condom box before she came over..
Just sent a nude with the caption "seasons greetings from our family to yours"
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