so he made me dinner last pm @whch point i askd if i could help out. he hands me his fucking laundry and asks me 2 do it
only you. it could only happen to you.
He keeps the condoms in his bible. I guess stairs or elevator, we're getting to hell one way or another.
It ended with me crying and eating pizza in my closet.
I feel like I have African malaria. I just remembered singing Teenage Dream in full to that biker couple at the bar.
i mean let's face it...the pregnant girl was really slowing us down.
Just tell your mom you have to go somewhere half naked with a strange man. She'll understand
Just had a flashback to Friday. Definitely had my hands in someone's bra. Definitely wasn't mine.
Didn't want you to think it had been open season on my vagina since we broke up.
Is it socially acceptable to be blind drunk at half five on a Monday afternoon?
Which pub are you in?
So here's a brief summary of my weekend: last night I drank four glasses of Death Punch, grabbed the toaster, said "This is mine", put it in my pants and walked out the front door.
we dropped acid in chinatown. worst. idea. ever. too many colors. and nobody has any idea where steve is.
I was amazing, unlike anything he's ever experienced. I somehow made him feel young and old.and he never felt old before. He feels I will literally kill him. With my magic, lethal vagina.
you told me you wanted to be a soccer mom with a high tolerance then you put the bottle to your face
I can feel the shame as I walk down your hallway.. good night
he tied his pants around my leg to stop the bleeding... i think he just wanted a good excuse to take his pants off
well did it work?
it was a success in both ways.
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