You work out of a Hotel?
I wouldn't call it sex. It's like when you put a plug in a socket half way. It's not all the way in but it still turns on the light.
take the plastic off of my new air freshener and i'm not going to eat you out for a month.
you were smoking 3 cigarettes at once saying 'cancer isn't real! Its all in your head!'
i hope not, i just know that at one point I was sitting on the bathroom floor eating bugles and crying because i had no one to show that it looked like I had witch nails when i stuck them on the ends of all ofmy fingers.
my mom told me that she didn't count me in the census because im a waste of life anyway.
you fell asleep spooning with his golden retriever. im not sure if thats more degrading for you or the dog
note to self: an IV pole is no substitute for a stripper pole. Written it on my ankle cast.
He gave me his business card. It was a Justin Bieber trading card with his number written in sharpie. I have to call him don't I?
that wasn't rum that I poured down your throat while you were sleeping
then she kicked a hole in her own door and the next thing you know, brian's walking up to her room with power tools. in no condition to use them
Ended up getting hot boxed in a limo with a bunch of asians going to a karaoke bar. I think I pretended to understand their language for a solid hour. Am I bilingual now?
I'm texting an actual stripper. A male stripper. I dont wanna talk about it yet
Also, since I switched back to this phone I've found a crop of dick pics and your funeral arrangements.
She sent me nudes via email. What the fuck are we still in the 90s? Grow up
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