I don't know if it's her mysterious past or atrocious grammar, but I think I'm in love.
he fucked my hip out of place.
Nope, I'm sticking to passive aggressive punishments. Like mismatching his socks and cumming on his leather couch. OCD is so wonderful.
Sometimes things go your way and sometimes you get hit on by a fat drunk girl.
By the way if you come home and I'm not wearing pants, just go with it. I didn't have the energy to go searching for some.
He told me to come in and have some water before I drove home, my vagina didn't stand a chance escaping. We didn't even make it to the kitchen.
The nausea has returned and I can't handle such things to exit my body so violently
I'm sitting in Starbucks, waiting for direction in my life, or it to be 8 p.m. Whatever comes first.
Woke up this morning with an extra $35 and someone else's ATM receipt. How much did I drink last night?
whatever bro. i had ice cream and whiskey for breakfast and its noon. this is the second worst christmas ever.
My poor liver. I drank enough on NYE to sustain an alcohol addiction for the entirety of 2015.
My mom found my empty case that I hid in my room and just said "now why don't you be a responsible underaged drinker and throw it in the recycling" and walked away. I'm in shock.
Only I could dislocate my ribcage coaching volleyball and still want to get drunk tonight.
no, it was more of an i-don't-think-he-even-knows-what-a-clitoris-is, bad.
Our baby is creepy.
That's how we know it's ours. haha
Randomize
