five shots of tequila, anal and 3 cigarettes. not my best idea on a saturday afternoon.
i just cleaned out my toilet because i knew that my head would be in it later
I'm about to enter vancouver's biggest liquor store. I feel like I should sent you a "wish you were here" postcard.
sitting on the counter. eating honey. crying, because coldplay sounds beautiful on the radio. highhhhh as the sky
I'm not sure if it was sex or spear fishing. He goes in for it like he's crash landing a rocket
I mean, I gave him a hand job on the Pearl Harbor tour bus; I don't know what the fuck else he wants out of this "relationship"
Excuse me hold on, hooking up with someone who is verified on twitter is like being important.
My catholic guilt is strong, but the alcohol is stronger.
you crashed our wine night double date and sat on the floor eating cheese talking about how big his dick is.
So, sleeping with all of my Vicodin in my bra because I knew she'd be searching my room for drugs tonight. I'LL SHOW HER.
I guess that means I was blowing a nerd last week.
And loving it.
I mean, it's just pathetic when the standard is tinder and he can't live up to it.
I got her number but I don't think I'll be able to smash, I was pretending to be British AND I forgot her name
I bought a machete, tennis balls, and matches. How is this NOT going to be a great night?
well you're talking to a woman who had glorious sex less than 24 hrs ago so my opinion is biased.
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