So pretty much, I was trying to piece last night together and remembered a point where I was pointing to you heart then touching your face. I'm not sure that I ever translated that to "I like your personality better than your looks" but that's what I meant
the doctor brought back painful memories by lecturing me about your teeth marks that are still on my dick.
Why is your signature on my underwear?
Never again will we have slut saturday. Never.
I have been way too involved with your nipples this weekend
Just now remembered singing Trashy Women at the reception. Not karaoke, just sang along with the mic I stole from the DJ. All while still in my dress drinking champagne from the bottle
Dude she flew me 1000 miles down to see her, broke up with me 7 hrs after arrival, and kicked me out with a week left til I fly home. Thank god college taught me how to shack up
Those two lesbians inspired me. A whole new way to roll. Fuck shots. Gallons of vodka is the new tequila.
Dear slutty diary: I lied about feeling guilty of being a homewrecker in order to have more sex. it worked.
Btw, do you want me to fix this with a box of wine and a chick flick or is this more of a 'lets head to the strip club' problem? I'm just trying to analyze the emotional depth of the situation.
He got naked and made a run for the door so I had to stop him.
Obviously. I'm here to let you eat things off my boobs and help you get laid.
Two days later and my throat is still sore. That bong is a double edged sword.
Why do guys insist on chatting me up this early in the morning? I'm just like "Dude, I look like the bastard child of Einstein and a troll doll. Let me eat my Hot Pocket in peace."
I guess it's too forward to greet him with a blow job?
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