I will make out with the first guy who tries to pick me up with a lyric from a rap song. I won't even reply, just be on him like whoa.
Im beginning to think that if I ever write an autobiography it will have to be mostly fill in the blank.
Promise me, at my funeral, you will re-enact our human sledding incident of 2011....you can use my dead body as said sled.
A guy is going to be inside me and I'm gunna start singing "I am stuck on your penis, cause your penis is stuck in meeee!"
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I swear I can feel something in my uterus. Like, I can feel his sperm searching for an egg. Wtf...
Dude where are you? I've been here an hour and all I've done is get head from a random in the stairwell.
He tried to tell me that he could handle his liquor better than "all the bitches in this town." AS HE THREW UP. ALL. OVER.
At the funeral we'll say nice things, like "She was delightfully extreme, psychotically wonderful, and could probably drink all you fuckers under the table."
That's literally the perfect eulogy
But on the plus side, what he lacked in size he made up for with speed. And grunting.
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I wrote a list of things I enjoy doing. So far it says "get high and go to museums."
There are condoms rolled onto each bunny ear of the ears I was wearing last night
So I've decided that blue balls for lesbians is rainbow balls and the struggle is real
You can either drink his whiskey or be a bitch. Doing both is just mean.
Went to go look for a friend that was missing since 3am, found her passed out in the hallway of the apartment, guessing it was a good night
My face is going numb. I think it's time I call it quits
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