I hate myself for knowing the words to party in the USA.
I wish the holidays was like a drive thru. Get in. Get your presents. Get out.
I figured it out. hungover me hates drunk me, drunk me hates sober me, and sober me hates being sober. so yes, were blacking out tonight.
Also, the zoloft kicked in and I can't get an erection anymore. So I'm depressed.
I remembered to bring wine in a nalgene bottle, but I forgot sunscreen and water. I'm starting to question my life decisions.
I'm like the Mother Theresa of booty calls.
We made it a contest to fuck on everything in your room while you were on vacation.
You should try cooking mac & cheese naked sometime. It's quite relaxing.
Please save me from this creative non fiction class. I just wrote a paper about how I spend unhealthy amounts of time with my cat.
I spend unhealthy amounts of time watching RuPaul's Drag Race.
I referred to the cat as amicable.
We built a fire and had sex in the kiddie pool. Then he washed my hair
Strong work
I just don't know the best way to tell him I think I saw him in a porn. I mean I got off to it, isn't there some level of awkwardness there?
I just want you to know that I am dancing around my apartment by myself singing Taylor Swift into a wine bottle. Do hurry.
How does a law student 15 days away from graduation prepare for a pass fail final? Drinking beer, eating thick cut bacon, and watching game of thrones, that's how
Just don't let me get too drunk. At one point I pulled out my dick and pissed at that party. Like on the wall.
He flew in from NY last night. We had sex in the back of my car in the airport parking lot and then he fed me fresh Babka (from Breads Bakery) as I drove him home. I can't decide if I love him or Babka more.
Randomize
