So, you didn't have time to come pick me up but you did have time to get plastered and then write "champagne money" on every one of my statuses for the past month?
I just need to know if he's either really genuine about being in my life or being in my vagina.
Apparently she saw two women get in a slapping match over a comforter at target yesterday. She said it was awesome. Clearly I take after her.
...i'd have to set their sheets on fire.
Luke did at least 8 shots of pure mayonnaise last night. I am not sure if that is better or worse than my 2 cement mixers?
I'm having salsa con queso and a leftover half-drank/flat red bull for breakfast. Nothing you propose doing today would be a downgrade.
Do you remember doing synchronized hip thrusts to Michael Jackson? Probably one of my favorite parts of the night
I hate vagina strikes, but I must not stray from my path. My boyfriend will know the true meaning of blue balls.
I don't need to marry the guy. I just need some filthy, shameful wish fulfillment sex and then live out the rest of my life on the bean farm.
Sometimes I refuse to go through a door until someone holds it open for me because I'm a fucking lady.
For some reason she gave me a handjob. It was all very confusing
I swear to god he thought my ass was a bag of wine last night.
I think he fucked my hip out of place.
Lighting a fucking bong with a candle. Straight up dedication.
You'll probably laugh but I am currently in bed in the fetal position wrapped in only my ninja turtles towel. Save me.
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