Let's just say there is a bloody hand print above my bed and it's not mine. Literally.
Don't judge me. He's really sexy for a 17 year old. We made nasty in the womens bathroom at the beach. Don't worry. I wore sandals in there.
None of that is ok.
I just woke up at my desk with "To Whommmmmmmmm" typed on a letter. I have no memory of waking up, getting dressed or driving in.
First coke bust down the road. Spring is finally here.
Is it love? I honestly haven't even thought about watching porn for over a week now, and haven't thought about fucking any strangers either. It's quite eerie.
I feel like we had some profound moment last night, but I can't really recall much past your ass turning up the volume on the radio.
I made a bet with her that she would show me her tits if I finished my beer. Only on spring break.
We've been walking through the woods for two hours, he just keeps taking pictures. At least we'll remember this tomorrow.
Whatever. That's why I am to be babied like a calf. I regret nothing.
You'll love it there. Trust me. Cheap tequila, pretentious beer, tall white guys who will treat you badly. Its got everything you like.
Probably should start having regular sex again too to lose this breakup weight. Good cardio.
OF COURSE I NEED TO KNOW I MUST KNOW EVERYTHING
YOU ARE NOT OMNIPOTENT AND YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH THAT
I AM OMNIPOTENT AND YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH THAT
I'm intrigued by how his mouth tasted the same as his dick.
Stop making fun of my hookups!
Stop getting hookups that I can make fun of!
Don’t get me wrong—I love silver and bracelets—but handcuffs are not a good look on me…
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