Don't really want to talk about it. You were right. She had a whole jar of toenail clippings on her nightstand that she chews on "when her fingernails are too short." Direct quote.
My vagina is so ashamed right now. It won't even look at me.
I am totally the chick from Intervention who barfs up wine and then re-eats it.
I am literally using a balloon as a pillow on a park bench.
Hunting for men at chipotle... I feel like I should be more disappointed that this is the way my life is going but I'm really just excited for the potential.
The Vegas crew is in two groups, Team Vodka and Team Fireball. There is no winner in this.
Yeah. You can ask him out. We're just fuck buddies. My vagina will be sad but your heart can be happy.
He was my shower sex Sherpa last night. And we both made it safely up the mountain.
I'll just save you what dignity you have left by letting what happened die with your lack of memory and/or liver.
I had lunch with him today and quietly mourned his wasted good looks on such a disappointing set of genitals.
My vibrator looks like a lipstick tube. So does my mace. I just realized the potential problems of keeping them both in the same bag.
Rule travel - in 2s or put an ankle monitor on me, and maybe a shock collar.
Whatever. I just want to indulge in this mcchicken and forget all about his tiny penis.
Few clarical questions about last night: 1. How did we get home? 2. Am I wearing your underwear? 3. Where is Andrea? 4. Guy with nose ring last night hot?
1. You tried hitch hiking "like a pro" and flashed cars while sticking out your thumb until I called Michael. 2. I don't know but probably. 3. Who is Andrea? 4. Hot.
My new roommate looks like a troll. Or a serial killer. So if I disappear, show this text to the cops.
Randomize
