My drug dealer is spending the weekend in my studio apartment. I feel like I've crossed a line that should never be crossed.
Apparently I did my philosophy paper last night. It's not bad either.
Dude that musta been some handjob last night. The sound of her pandora bracelet kept waking me up
i just masturbated in footie pajamas. there's no judgement here.
You basically told your boyfriend at the time you were going to shit in his hands.
And I meant every ounce of it.
Oh fuck, I messaged a Jack Kerouac poem to a girl I'm trying to sleep with last night at 4am.
Can you bring home bongs? Like all the bongs. I need bongs
I know, but the fabulousness of my baggies should not be what defines my business as a drug dealer.
So I fucked him. Then I MC Hammer'd to the bathroom, where I did the robot in celebration of my accomplishment. And then I spent 10 mins fixing my toilet. But YOLO.
All I want to do is shower, but there is a keg in there.
I just had some kinky fun in the back seat of my car behind a Ralph's in south county. How's your thanksgiving eve?
If I win the lottery I'm going to hire someone to skywrite "FUCKTARD" over his house. That much anger.
I'm trying to fuck him and feed him. I don't understand why it isn't working.
Had sex on your trumpet just an fyi.
dude. i woke up on a random lawn wearing only my boxers, with all my clothes hung in the branches of a nearby tree... no more shrooms
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