I got chris browned last night
somehow I got talked into dressing up like a hot dog, spinning around ten times, and shooting lay ups in front of thousands of students
I was so high last night. I wrote a poem about my salt shaker
it's like a replay of two fridays ago...except not in a motel and i'm not having sex in the shower.
Bullshit. No way. If I brushed past your penis it was completely coincidental.
You fell asleep with your fingers in my vagina. You made this a relationship.
You hid from a cop under some guy's canoe on his lawn.. It didnt work
Almost to work. And still feel hungover. Like my body is trying to regenerate after dying. Full on zombie shit. But like, one of those zombies from warm bodies that comes back to life slowly.
She said she had a surprise for me and sent me a video of her having sex with some fat dude. It was a mood killer
I chose not to drink last night but drinking chose me
I'm trying to find some better sex background music so his neighbors don't hate us. This is tedious.
90% sure the total babe I have been talking to all night has a kid. Ugh, so sad right now.
Im so high
Don't do it. He's got a dick the size of a baseball bat. You don't want that commitment.
I have to. For the sake of science.
A lady played my boobs as if they were drums. It's been that kinda night.
It's National Whipped Cream Day, prep those nips
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