Just spit on a sock to clean a spot on my glass table. Oddest combination of so lazy and motivated ever.
It was good sex. She was screaming so much I didn't know whether or not my name was Matt or God.
We FINALLY fucked. I swear that's the longest I've ever held out for
Umm you met him three days ago....
I said what I said
I fell asleep at the bar. And the bouncer threw a snowball at my face.
After she cried and passed out at four in the morning, I had a very lovely, very drunken conversation with her mother while decorating a cake into the shape of a penis.
So I did end up texting him last night... I asked him how he felt about haircuts... not sure where I was going with that one?
Casually brushing the Bacardi out of my hair. It's a good time to ponder regretting everything that happened last night.
SHE GRABBED MY FULLY ERECT DICK IN A BAR AND STUCK HER TONGUE DOWN MY THROAT AND I COULD NOT CLOSE
I AM OFFERING YOU ALCOHOL AND THE CHANCE TO LET ME SAY FUCK IT TO MY RESPONSIBILITIES. HOW MANY TIMES DOES THIS HAPPEN?!
I was wondering why he was in my phone as "Cat Guy", he seemed pretty normal. Then when we woke up he was wearing a shirt with a picture of his cat on it. The name stays.
She said "I feel like I haven't reached my full potential" and I couldn't figure if she meant in life or with the weed..
He says it takes a lot to subdue the urge to just bury his face in my vagina. Of course, I have absolutely no problem with this.
she's my really slutty friend i bring around so i can act slutty and not feel as bad about it
I'm still trying to figure out who shit on the coffee table. I have confirmed beyond a reasonable doubt that it wasn't me.
so i put my jacket on last night that you wore last weekend, and reach inside the pockets and find them full of goldfish...
the snack that smiles back:)
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