So we were banging and she started puking all over my bed. I'm not sure what's worse, her puking, or that I felt the urge to start singing Flip-adelphia.
He was trying to put his hand up my shirt but I remembered the coke was stashed in my bra so I moved his hand to my pants
It was like some kind of slut recycling operation. She gave me the shirt of the last guy she slept with in exchabge for mine so I didn't have to wear the same thing to work. She's been doing it for years
I have sand in every orifice, there are bruises everywhere, and I smell like a distillery. I love summer.
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It's only been a week and i've already broken my no summer randoms rule twice.
Sometimes I wish I could open my skin and just take a little peek at my liver. You know, just to see if it's rotten yet or still perfect looking.
As if me making pizza in a skillet wasn't enough proof that I was in no state to be cooking, this burn blister on my hand is
I guess crabs is what I get for sleeping with my ex.
It turns out my English teacher used to pose for Playboy. She's an inspiration.
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He started tongueing his parfait and told "thats what I'd to your ass" in the middle of Starbucks. Of course i brought him home
He wrote on the bartenders notepad "phone?" So I wrote back "911"
I possibly am a tad bit not really but maybe slightly intoxicated.
If he's dating my cousin now, do I have to erase the pictures of his dick off my phone? Ugh, morals.
How was it?
Incredible. Everyone in the world should be having the kind of sex I've been having.
He should write a pamphlet or something...
How’s big weiner McGee?
I’m going to ask you one last time to call him Matt and he’s fine thank you very much
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