So how was he last night?
Five-minute foot-long.
Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
the drag queen on stage looks like shes wearing the EXACT same dress i wore 2 senior prom.
If i could tip my vagina, i would.
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i was so drunk he made me beileve the song was called "thanksgiving sex."
It was good sex. She was screaming so much I didn't know whether or not my name was Matt or God.
I'll tell you what, we couldn't have asked for better binge-drinking weather.
I left boob prints on the hood of his car. Something to remember me by.
I just spend twenty minutes scrubing the "Happy Birthday" off of my vagina. He's never gonna forget this.
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Believe it or not I'm actually not the only person sitting in the back of the train covered in glitter and drinking whiskey out of an arizona iced tea can. Small world.
Fuckin wine wasted last night. Found my pants in the toilet this morning.
Well I walked the wrong way for a little bit and I don't remember if I fell asleep or not but I definitely laid down under the over pass for a while
CURSE YOU AND YOUR SEXY LOGIC
I am naked, and drinking straight gin with a flat tonic chaser. I had such greater hopes for myself as a child.
yea...tonic water is fucking gross.
So when did "Are you okay?" translate into "Don't tell me you got fucked by another rando after another rager"?
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