Im listening to a jazz version of dick in a box.
You know it's time to leave Spain when you are back and forth between Skype and a Spanish dictionary trying to figure out out to say "I can still smell you on my skin."
i think i just saw hanson at the grocery store. one might have been a girl. hard to tell. lets call that one taylor.
So she said grabbing my cock was like holding a giant crayola from pre-school.
that was the beginning of the end.
Note to self: soco dudes get amusinly uncomfotable when I moan at the urinal.
I need to surround myself with more reliable stoners...
we were like drunken butterflies among sober caterpillars,
i was considerably less excited after they told me my present didnt have a penis
I feel as if I owe my bloodstream some tequila.
SEE! I KNEW I HAD A LONG-TERM REASON FOR BEING A SLUT!
Even my psychiatrist thinks I should fuck the married guy.
It's not quite a landing strip... It's more like a soul patch for my vagina.
Yes and yes. Got taken to a Florida strip club. I desperately want to flood my eyes and ears with hand sanitizer right now.
Yea we slept in ur room but im 80% sure we didnt have any peanut butter in there
i just thought a plastic bag was my cat. i just pet a plastic bag. that high.
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