I've decided to film a documentary centered around how he manages to keep that beast caged in such tight pants
ive decided theres a fine line between accepting money for sex and letting someone buy you late night taco bell and knowing that if he hadnt you wouldnt be in his bed right now
you sent me the whole alphabet, one letter a text. it took 15 minutes to read them all
they could make at least 3 episode of "i shouldn't be alive" out of my weekend
He's crying and calling me out on using him. It's awful. And I'm too drunk to leave.
He called his prostate his "boner button".
I held a cracker & gaterade down for an hour. I feel like this will be my greatest accomplishment of the day.
Hide in the closet. if you hear me yell patato salad come out swinging.
Every time I start to think he's just not worth the trouble, he puts his face down there and I wanna buy him a car
I'm torn between wanting to wear lipstick and wanting to make out with strangers.
Cant get off the floor. Need more beer. Send help.
Sorry about my sloppy drunk texts. I'm not sure talking about banging a near dead Jimmy Stewart was my finest moment
Left Las Vegas at 2:30 am, woke up at 11 AM at a Barstow gas station with the Valet from Ceaser' palace snoring in the backseat and no memory of how we got there. I felt like Raoul Fucjing Duke right then and there.
GIIIIRL I AM STONED AF AND I HAVE A HOMEMADE POT PIE IN THE OVEN THIS PARTY IS LIT.
I am listening to Jack Johnson and wearing the sweater your Mother made me fuck mother nature I am in my happy place right now
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