6:33 AM: I'm drunk at this time of morning.
Writing a book: The Evolution of the Douche Bag: From Popped Collars to Ed Hardy Shirts. Doing research now.
Make sure you include chapters on white sunglasses, spray tans, and toxic amounts of hair gel.
Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
of course. lets lasso hookers.
we got hammered off table wine and i ended up biting my acrylic nail off so i could finger his butt.. ill never look at valentines day the same
The amount of my urine my roommate has consumed after I found out he's been eating my food almost offsets how angry I am
I had a girl last night tell me that she was happy to find a condom wrapper in my garbage because,and I quote, "well at least you're not raw dogging every slore that crosses your path"
I feel like i'm walking on a never-ending field of baby sheep.
We hooked up in his car and afterwards he cried. I think I need to find a new hookup...
I feel a little uneasy about having my grandma sleep in my bed that I've banged chicks in not too long ago... Fuckin blizzards
Also, fucking on half deflated air mattresses is a great full body work out.
The main motivators in my life are my sex drive and spite
I'm keeping both. The way I see it, boyfriends come and go, but a good dick is forever.
Not this time. I'm drinking in my sweatpants which means I've given up for the day and shouldn't be in public.
Her blowjob technique? Picture someone attempting to drink a triple thick milkshake through a Capri Sun straw.
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