All I seem to do lately is get myself off, take naked pictures and drink beer. I don't know if thats a good or bad thing.
I just threw up, I'm either bulemic or pregnant, and I'm now accepting bets on which it is
Flying to Orlando on the 7th is cheaper than the 8th by like three margaritas.
I'm starving. my midnight snack, aka a teaspoon of cum, isn't holding me over
I'd rather say I'm a whore then admit it's his child. Its that bad.
when i got there he was on top of an air mattress in the middle of the pool with a bag of doritos and a 40 telling people he needed his space.
Apparently I gave him a 'Steve jobs blowjob'
his blanket is still in the back seat of my car, its like a constant reminder of his small penis
It says a lot about how well I know you when I can understand messages of yours that say things like "sauteed Jesus."
Lost my credit card. M has a bottle of blood in her pocket from a hobo.
We shot off some fireworks at 12 and then I orchestrated the group singing of god bless the USA all while wearing a don't tread on me flag as a cape. I repped hard.
You are cordially invited to an I'm not pregnant laser tag celebration tomorrow. booze is optional.
Broken heels while double fisting margaritas, picking up shirtless, bloody men and escorting them out of harms way, the meltdown when I realized I can go without a bra bc my boobs shrunk, the morning vodka red bull you were forced to drink? Which one roped you in?
Naptime over. I've got fresh contacts and tequila. RAAAAAAGE!
She's better-looking with the mask on.
Randomize
