so he was shitfaced and kept using sticky notes to label everything like "beer spill" and "going to fuck later"
it appears as though my vagina has gotten the best of me again
When she showed me how she could touch her toes without bending her knees, suddenly her face didn't worry me quite as much.
His hands were made for my vagina.
she's throwing a head of lettuce everywhere shouting HEADS UP and trying to get us to play catch with her. i'm scared.
The bouncer was kicking me out and I put up my finger for him to wait while I chugged the rest of my drink..all he could say is "are you serious right now?"
So here i am dipping ice cream in my vodka and watching the bad girls club on demand. This is not ok
When you consider the sheer number of events that had to occur in order to prevent me from fucking her, there must be a god
like he couldn't stop by and throw me in the back seat and ask for a blowjob? he had to give me flowers?
I remember just enough about last night to wish I didn't remember anything.
Just found a pack of birth control on the corner of Oakland and Thomas, so if your desperate its up for grabs.
Haha! You know I mean that in a positive way. Like, "let them eat cake!" Or in our case, "let them achieve obesity from the two entree plate at Panda Express!"
I survive off of bourbon and the tears of others only
We need to feng shui this bitch.
I feel awkward having to tell people “sorry you can’t finger me because I will get a UTI and I don’t have health insurance”
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