i threw up in his kitchen sink and then used a measuring cup to drink water because i couldn't find a clean glass. i just threw up down the stairs. it's gonna be a long walk home.
We hadn't had sex in so long that I started queefing and then I couldn't stop giggling... I think he's mad.
Its as if he has to do the exact opposite of what I tell him. Don't come in my eye, pfshh it's in my eye. Don't come on the cat, pfshh it's on the cat.
I feel as though the word "tired" has become synonymous with "too high to manage the stairs" lately
she bonged a coffee cause she was hungover. then she bonged a beer cause she got ambitious. then she barfed. then she had to start over again.
It hurts to peel the glue off my chest and i keep finding glitter in my hair.
I just wanted to decorate you...
I'm taking a new approach to homewrecking... for science. Or I totally would. I have to see what happens between my ex & his brother when he finds out.
If you like her enough, bring her with. If not, eloquently cunt punt that bitch through the field goals of life.
She had cheddar bay biscuits in her purse. Biscuits, Id and cash. I'm gonna marry her.
No sex in the champagne room. The champagne room being my life
A little sexual choking never killed anyone. And if it did, they died happy.
Yeah if I don't text back. I'm eating. sleeping. Or lifting. Or drinking. Or playing call of duty. Like shit man
The worst part is there are all kinds of happy creatures out here like fucking snow white and i'm sitting in semi-dead grass, hungover with a burnt butt
It's been a week I should not still be finding glitter in my pants.
Woke up way too warm in the middle of a spooning sandwich. Was working up a rant about still not wanting a threesome. Then I realized the littlest spoon was the dog. Might need to break up anyway.
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