i'm pretty sure you said "blowjob marathon" lastnight
i totally said that
saw him outside... he got fatter, i got blonder. the winner is obvious.
literally every day that goes by where he doesn't talk to me makes me more determined to get him to have sex with me
NEVERCLEAR, NEVER AGAIN.
When you consider the sheer number of events that had to occur in order to prevent me from fucking her, there must be a god
the problem with having sex for lunch when its 98 degrees outside is that I can't tell if its sweat or semen running down my leg as I walk back in the office
And in my birthday dress, with my friends, i peed on myself in line for the club. Still went in and partied. I remember pieces
You know how I got mad at him for making out with his formal date? Apparently I fucked mine. I'm guessing any exclusivity is out of the question.
Could someone please explain the rug burn on the right side of my face and do I need a shot of penicillin?
I'm going to go out on a limb and say last night was a success, also the neighbors are counting down the days until we move out.
Would you and/or him be willing to dress up like the phantom, sing me music of the night and then bone the shit out of me? this is important.
I'm going to give blood tomorrow. Prepare yourself for pictures and a cynical poem about the heart and its level of tangibility.
Seeing my ex post concert Snapchat videos as an Instagram really reinforces that I made the right choice...
So hypothetically speaking.. say someone dropped their birth control pill in a hot bowl of soup, and it possibly disintegrated.. would it be just as useful?
I feel like hooking up with you on my floor, sneaking out my window and jumping a fence is an effort that deserves a happy birthday.
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