i've decided that sluttiness is like a disease, it can lay dormant in you for years and then one day you go to college and with all the booze and drugs and boys and time on your hands symptoms begin to show then one day BAM you're a huge slut. it's like how izzie had skin cancer and it grew into brain cancer.
So he says "lean over this" which is a chain across the doorway, held into the wall with bolts. I do. Then he puts his weight on top of me to try and get it in.
It breaks. We fall.
I now have a broken nose, a concussion, and an infected, split lip. Why do I have the worst luck in guys?
2nd night home for break and we had to call the fire department to keep the house from burning down. At this rate I'll be lucky to see you next semester.
you fucked my boyfriend. margarita girls night will not fix this.
I don't think my arm is broken I can still text
that bitch in the red sedan is still teasing me with the ice cream cone. i'm going to show her my dick
I'm drunk in a field. the chupacobra is going to eat me. if I die serve vodka at my funeral.
Want to go home, so casually slip my underwear in his pocket. Never seen him grin so big and say goodbye to his friends.
Some girl came up to us crying that she lost her phone and you said "if it's meant to be, let it be"
No I don't want to see you. You're the reason that I'm going to need a new liver by the time I'm 30.
I think he bit my vagina. Who does that?
But can mardi gras accurately capture the essence of my tiny rage?
Every time I download Tinder again, I hate myself a little more.
Fuck my life he IS a stripper, Ive been sleeping with a stripper named Phoenix. damnit, I knew the sex was too good
Took my nervous poop earlier then expected it's gonna be a good day
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