I'm in a room alone pouting because I got the wrong nachos at taco bell.
oh my god im such an asshole. i just asked the guitarist of bad religion if he was a scalper.
I found the orange juice, it was hiding in the vodka...trickster.
Burger king has cupcake flavored milkshakes. God dammit America.
I'll throw in a blow job for your kind ways. Or another booty call. I'm poor and not very imaginative. This is all I have to offer- the unicorn like wonders of my vagina.
Now accepting hypotheses about how i managed to get a bruise between my boobs....
This shit I'm taking feels like I've eaten every burrito in the world and chased that with an aquarium of hot sauce.
Almost there.
define "almost". like I have enough time to watch a youtube video or oh shit, put on some goddamn pants because they're in the driveway.
I'm happy in my shell. My shell which consists of keeping guys in the friend zone and me masturbating...
THIS IS NOT A DECISION I MADE AT ONE IN THE MORNING IM JUST GETTING AROUND TO TELLING YOU ABOUT IT NOW
Is "I want you to destroy my insides" too forward?
Pretty sure when I woke up the next morning we were still fucking. It just didn't stop.
I was dreaming of a parallel reality and in the dream I just looked up at my present self and was like "you're high, man"
This band has the most fuckable violin player I have ever seen.
Pooled our money and rented a bouncy castle for the day. Get over here now. Bring vodka.
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