He only uses me for sexual pleasure. The sad part is I don't even feel like a slut. I just I feel like I should just live in the top drawer of his nightstand....for free of course.
I don't have the money to get a cast so we made one from stuff at the craft store.
I sharted in my sleep... I didnt even think that was possible.
I want to tell you about my weekend in person so I can see your look of judgement and disgust.
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The look I see on guys faces when they realize my nipples are pierced remind me of when my mom used to come home from the grocery store and surprise me with poptarts.
now I know why they wanted me to come. apparently gay guys are stripper magnets
UPDATE: lighting the grill with Bacardi. Haven't slept. Forgot the hamburger buns. Almost out of our eighth handle.
Almost made out with Amanda but I told her "I'm in a committed fake lesbian relationship with Laura. I can't."
I feel like a cloud. A cloud that wants to be laid.
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I run into you far too many times while completely stoned and/or drunk for this not to be fate. It's like god is telling you to fuck me.
It has been happening a lot lately.
I was woken up at 6 am by a second grader trying to give me a sweatshirt for a pillow
How the hell could he be confused. He had a naked girl running to him. I feel like he would enjoy that.
The fake number she gave me was for Pappa John's. Now I have a large pepperoni on the way.
I found a 9 minute video on my phone of you singing into an eggplant.
The moral of the story is this:the last shot of the night is always a mistake
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