I can't tonight. I'm still nursing a beach sex injury. Don't wanna talk about it.
sleeping like a two year old who chased ambien with a bottle of whiskey.
today is like waiting for pizza day in elementary school, but with sex added
Lucky for you, I found your phone.....Not so lucky for you, it was in the bottom of your vomit-filled trashcan.
According to the transitive property, he has now had dick in his mouth.
You don't even know the meaning of faking an orgasm until you sleep with an uncircumcised ginger.
I swear every time I make the effort to make my hair look nice, someone jizzes in it.
Called my dealer in tears and we talked for an hour until I felt better. That's the way it should be.
Just once I'd like to do blow in a nice bathroom.
Shitty. Well if it makes you feel any better I just had a toothless wasted crackhead in my bar who was mad because there are TOO MANY FUCKIN TREES in Nantucket.
My old dealer would be proud of the drug cocktail I just took for my back pain.
The sex definitely would have been a perk. But not sitting in a ditch was what I was going for...
He dropped some cash when he got in my front seat upside down. And a hat. I'm keeping them as retribution for not remembering that he had sex with me once before. Although, if he didn't have his dick pierced, I wouldn't have remembered either.
She’s super into those renaissance faires. But, if you can’t actually stab anyone, what’s the point?
So, I need to know. Why did you spraypaint your underwear gold?
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