I woke up at 4am on the couch with half my clothes on. And by half my clothes I mean my earrings.
I don't care if you go out, because at the end of the night I know i'll be the one fucking you.
that was completely unnecessary, true, but unnecessary
he opened up his "box of magic": a crusty tube of KY jelly, three expired condoms, a fingertip vibrater, and a jar of marshmallow fluff.
The fact that I found him in his Ninja Turtles t-shirt next to six empty and obviously consumed packs of EasyMac watching reruns of Becker certainly made telling him that I wanted a divorce so much easier than I had planned.
I didn't even realize you were getting that drunk until bam!
is bam when I fell down the stairs or when I threw up standing at the bar?
And there I was, sitting Indian style on the kitchen floor, my fingers covered in peanut butter.
just to let you know, its not cheating if i cant feel my hands.
I am assuming I was his dirty Mardi Gras mistake and I can live with that
Cookies. Watch out fir falling satellites.
He turned me into a screamer. Guess I'm really not a lesbian.
i had a super strange, mommy/daddy issuestastic, mildly freudian, i-might-as-well-become-a-stripper-now-and-stop-fighting-the-inevitable dream last night :(
so getting blacked out last night has made my lips so beautifully red for pictures today... and they say nothing good comes from alcohol
I just ordered cookies for delivery. My life is falling apart.
My booty call made my bed while I was in the shower. I may have to marry him.
well apparently i sat in the bathroom staring in the toliet at my vomit. it was blue. how was your night?
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