i felt like cinderella. except at midnight i turned back into a whore.
If there is ever a next time, care about me enough to lube it up no matter what my drunk ass says
Next weekend I am getting a library card and staying my whore ass home.
I am not old enough to be running into past fucks at the bank. This is at least a twenty five year old milestone.
Things we need. Powerade. Water in fridge. Mixers for vodka. And reality checks.
There's a questionable stain on Harley's bed...would they have sex on a dog bed?
Something about getting whistled at in my work clothes while crossing the street with three Nuvarings in my back pocket feels wrong.
They want yo temporarily sterile ass.
I like to feed my guinea pigs before I get stoned. In case they get contact high and get the munchies. It's only polite.
So we became Pizza Strippers- we stripped and asked for slices of pizza in return.
A milkman. But instead of milk I'm delivering marijuana. And instead of a milk truck it's an armored car.
You're a weed delivery man, in an armored car?
He said he cried as he watched porn yesterday; I'd say he's taking the break-up pretty bad....
In her defense, she didn't know I had a twin brother. Plus, we're even: I banged her sister.
I was like sure, i'll have a drink or two to end the night early. Next thing i know theres a ton of dudes in my house and like 3 gallons of wine. I cant do anything in moderation.
Nothing like a dick pic from your fave ex to make you audibly exhale sadly.
So, I need to know. Why did you spraypaint your underwear gold?
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