Shiiiit I think I'm getting sick. probably had something to do with the fact that i shared my mouth with everyone last night.
Wait. That came out far sluttier than I intended.
at john mayer concert. alone. to many highschool kids. i feel like a drunk chaperone with a pomegranite martini mustache
and honestly how many chances will you get to hook up with a one armed guy?
It's like my butt was the only innocence I had left and now I don't even have that.
Let's get really high and wear fake mustaches and try not to laugh at each other...
His penis has been a bonding mechanism beyond comparison.
This is Jewish guilt versus Irish Catholic guilt. We should tread carefully, or we could fuck up the space-time continuum or something.
I'm okay with that.
Trust me. Drunk Scrabble is not a good idea. Arguments over the legitimacy of the word "Pickle" break out, things are said, friendships are ruined. It's ugly.
I draw, I play three woodwind instruments, I press buttons for eight hours at work and Im studying to be a gynecologist... I guarantee I can make you squirt, babe.
Apparently, the right response to, "How do you feel about a terrorist being in the area?" isn't, "Well, we have vodka in the freezer, so we're good for now."
She has that type of face she reminds me of that weird girl from napoleon dynamite only taller and with hoop earrings.
I realize my mistake but don't you dare school me in cock, young man
I wrote myself a note last night telling me to tell you that you're the best person ever, and asking you not to tell me what I did, I think I'm trusting my drunk judgment on that one.
I just watched two birds fight or fuck. It was crazy. Another bird was watching closer and I know that bird understood what was happening better than me.
How do I tell my boss I have slutty fantasies about him, me and his conference room table?
Randomize
