Well, for starters you dressed up in all Green and kept singing that song from "A Goofy Movie". Then you made us call you Powerline for the rest of the night...needless to say no, you didn't hook up with her
Note: fake nails and fingering anus.... Not a good idea
He keeps trying to sell me the forks from his kitchen drawer
just found gum connecting my sunglasses to my floor board. you don't want to know where else it was.
his blanket is still in the back seat of my car, its like a constant reminder of his small penis
He was going down on me as I discovered a spaghetti-O on my boob. Its been a while since I faked it.
Seriously, I was a high class hooker. I was snorting shit Rachel, white powder, lines formed with credit cards, the dudes house was beautiful. Magnum condom. Adorable puppy dog. Pretty sure at some point I was sleeping on a washing machine. Boxing Gloves.
Those were the highlights of my night.
You kept yelling "wood grain wheel" and grinding on fat chicks.
The hell is wrong with me
I CRIED after phone sex. Am I gay?
only thing in my fruit bowl is 4 champagne corks and a jenga piece . Tuesday.
He wouldn't stop calling me so I sent him a text saying "I'm dead. Dead. Leave me alone." And he replied with "so can I see you then?"
I told you being able to play expert on guitar hero would get us laid one day
I lost my favorite bra in his hotel room. Is it bad that that's the only reason I hope he texts me tomorrow?
I don't need romance, I need cheese sticks
Its the damn oven. I think it wants to eat me.
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