So at this point...I'm sure you heard the story about Saturday night
We were hooking up, both of us naked. She starts putting her clothes back on and says, "I have to go to the bathroom." I reply, "No you don't, you're leaving." Without hesitation she looks at me and says, "Yeah."
You better be coming back...your date is passed out in a shrub in my backyard and I'm pretty sure her shirt is on my kitchen floor
I want to let you in on my two latest life goals. Have a photograph of me squirting whipped cream into a midget's mouth, and have sex on a roof.
I need to shower, but I have no shower curtain... I think I can get by with a whore bath and a hat for one more day.
The sound of my own breathing is making my head throb. That hungover.
I'm busy watching infomercials. I'd say I'll join you later, but I'm doing a shot every time they demonstrate how difficult life is WITHOUT this product. So I doubt I'll be able to walk in another... Maybe 40 minutes.
But feel free to join! A new infomercial starts in 12 minutes.
is it weird to think that girls born in '96 are now legal?
Celebrated the veterans I suppose, my mouth tastes of gin and black outs
I feel like shit, and I can't get the band aids off my nipples.
I mean I'm sad it didn't work out but tbh he he can't unlick my booty hole or unbreak his headboard... He won't forget my name ever
I hope dressing like a sexy, but very grown up and intelligent, secretary while out shopping helps disguise how high I am right now.
Maybe why that's why I'm perpetually single... I can't find a guy with bigger balls than mine.
*6am blends another margarita* *615am blends straight tequila*
Omfg 7 hour sex session who am I?
PS: I think I'm in love
Ability to walk tomorrow tbd
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