I wish Michael J Fox could read me bedtime stories
He could rock you to sleep
and I'm going to name my autobiography "blow jobs with enthusiasm are the best"
I'm naming my autobiography "Reasons Not to Date Girls From Texas."
your tears are not going to buy me drinks...
I'm at the cafe. It's 7am. There is a girl I don't know on my futon who tried to tickle me this morning when I got down from my loft. I also not wearing any underwear.
We had phone sex and he came in his sink. i will never eat off one of his plates again
He needs to respect me before he can fuck me with cat ears on.
I just very easily got pretty high off of one bowl of shitty dirt weed. I'm a sad excuse for who I used to be.
University has ruined us all. I just had to clarify the last time I had sex as "No, not at the party we crawled home from in the snow. It was the one where you puked off the balcony and hit the barbecue."
Actually let's just focus our energy on not getting committed to a psych ward.
Well, during the ride home I had to personally apologize to both of her breasts.
Stop your judging. I got free booze AND an oil change. You're the one whose always saying we're spending too much money.
I think I died and satan has brought me back to life and I'm paying for my sins with this hangover
I'm pretty sure my roommate is moving out because her cat likes me better
Just remember: We don't tell our English professor about our fetishes unless she specifically asks about them.
I am so sorry. Not sure for what, but whatever I did last night probably merits an apology, so I'm covering my bases.
Randomize
