Next weekend I am getting a library card and staying my whore ass home.
His dick was so small it sat perched on top of his balls like it was king of his scrotum.
I know. I just don't want anything else. I have no other desire. Just a ham sandwich.
I honestly don't know what to make of that.
A ham sandwich would be nice.
I'd rather say I'm a whore then admit it's his child. Its that bad.
it's official, after last weekend my girl number is higher than my guy number. fix this.
It was beyond pathetic. You yelled her name at every blonde chick we saw hoping it would be her. Then you puked your corn dog
We have zombies coming, and all you can think about is cock.
Nope, I'm sticking to passive aggressive punishments. Like mismatching his socks and cumming on his leather couch. OCD is so wonderful.
I wish you could see how much hot sauce and broken glass are in our apartment right now.
They fucked on my pong table last St. Patty's and broke it. I feel like I should be hiding my new one. Would hate for a tradition to form.
Just ate a chocolate chip cookie upside down. This is what having a degree does for you.
So the woman who sold us weed at the park is pregnant. With another small child. And the basket she used to carry the joints is decorated with Barney stickers.
She's like a yuppie Nancy Botwin. She just gets better and better.
I may or may not have pissed on my floor last night
Welcome to 22
Fun fact: the guy I banged last night. His middle name on his birth certificate is "Windstorm."
The walk of shame was so much longer today. i have to start fucking guys in my own postcode.
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