I cheated on you last night. I slept with my laptop.
Making out with married ex girlfriends: priceless
so i'm just gonna leave my credit card in your mailbox so you can bail me outta jail.. deal?
She solidified the fact that the icon from Wendy's is the only ginger I care for
In a min. With a stripper at the hospital. Business. Not pleasure.
She drove all the way from Austin to have sex with me. I think it's a safe assumption my dick will have an easy life in college.
Are you two whores ready for me to turn the light on so you can see what you came home with last night?
The yoga party turned into an underwear party because we are all incompetent when it comes to tying bed sheets.
This has been a Party Success Story
Like an undercooked grilled cheese that got cold again. But hairy.
And there goes my desire for sandwiches. Forever.
I have straight up perfected the art of amazing manicures with shaky-as-fuck adderall hands. Also, I'm way too proud of this.
I have bruises from doing the splits on the poles, if that doesn't scream bourbon street regret then I don't know what does
Dear God, please let me get my period. And if this one is fiercer than usual I completely understand.
I'm not gonna lie. I'm a little scared.
Good. The Jell-O shots look great.
Omg. I just remembered my underwear is in my wallet
do you think mom is upset that i left with the stripper from her bachelorette party last night?
Randomize
