Woke up with feathers in my hair. at work. still drunk. sooo awkward.
my periods are so regular now that they are sync-ed with my subscriptions of vogue.
The guy drove to our house at 6am to sell us weed. Now that's customer service.
I just wiped my vajayjay with snow. Bad idea.
He screamed "Oh boy! Oh boy!" during climax.
I drove 5 hours to see her. She thanked me by getting shitfaced, inviting her boyfriend over, and making me sleep on the couch after I cooked for them and did the dishes. You're right. I'm a fucking doormat.
You crawled through a doggy door 5 times for a shot if cheap vodka.
I mean, I can get to know him eventually. The time frame doesn't really matter. I'll have sex with him regardless of whether he's interesting or not.
Everybody in the immediate area is hooking up like it's doomsday
WHY AM I NOT THERE?
You have not lived until you have drunkenly grinded on your mother. Daughter of the year right here.
View of Vancouver Bay is obscured though the greasy hand prints from fucking against the window. Tip maid well.
I think weed is turning my hair brown
The fact that I bookended my summer with pregnancy scares doesn't upset me. The fact that he's a trombone major does...
He can kiss the multicultural 3 some goodbye
Your grandma changed her Netflix password :(
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