Okay you totally passed out. Ask me about the bike parking garage and the expired baby formula in the morning.
I fell off the front porch last night. Actually.. I dove. I dove off the front porch.
is it wrong that I want a "Where The Wild Things Are" tshirt that points to my junk?
Note to self: never do anything I don't want to explain to a paramedic
He burnt a smiley face into the screen with a cigarette, peed in my tub and then tried to take off his pants. tried...
the night ended with taco bell and tears
I did the walk of shame wearing his scrubs. Fucking med school students is the way to go.
Then mom squeezed my boob and said, "Dad would go nuts if I had these..."
Is there a special protocol when the stripper has a Boba Fett tattoo?
I'm dying. The alcohol is viciously exiting my tiny body.
we fucked in the backseat of my car at the observatory, right under the stars. it was a starry, orgasmic filled night
I had forgotten what new underwear feels like. It's as if angels descended from heaven for the sole purpose of supporting my junk.
So high, just applauded for a magic trick on Hulu.
Why exactly is there a butt plug on the counter?
Look. All I'm saying is that if the USWNT can win a shit ton of medals and have two gay love stories with happy endings, there's still hope in this world
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