he was so drunk he doesn't remember anything. I have to break up with him all over again
judging by the mobile uploads you added of me last night, we cant keep living this way.
Just checked my phone. Sometime last night I googled sex positions in a tent. Was there even a tent there?
DO NOT GO IN OUR BATHROOM. it cannot be unseen
It's never too late to be topless.
we've coined the Sunday morning ritual of taking out our puke-filled trash cans as The Trash Of Shame
Once he blows his load, he's more of an immediate flight risk than that jetBlue pilot. He's out the door before his cum is out of my vajayjay.
There's hot sauce all over my mirror, lamp shade and dresser. Also it's your turn for weed
I forgot that places existed where drinking on Sunday is frowned upon. It's just so unreasonable.
At some point, you're going to have to talk to a tree and do what it says
I told her I was going to sleep early last night. I probably should not have sent that snapchat of us playing beer pong.
He wants to make me arch my back "like I'm having an exorcism". Not sure if I'm turned on or freaked out.
Phone keeps correcting good morning to "food moaning" and I like the way it thinks.
I had one beer! ONE BEER! They took shots in mourning of my tolerance last night. My ability to drink is a joke.
the police dropped me off. that's how my night went.
Randomize
