I smuggled my gin and tonic out of the bar by shoving the glass in my pocket...mistakes were inevitable.
You leave me no choice. Your vagina is grounded. It can just sit there and think about what it's done.
Rather than admit to myself he's hooking up with her right now, I choose to believe that he's not responding because he's masturbating to my picture, distraught over his poor choice, and trying to forget about the one that got away with a heavy dose of meth.
And if I hated you I'd probably say things like, "I never want to speak to you again," or, "Eat a bag of dicks." That's how you'd know.
You made me pull over because you thought a leaf was a twenty rolling across the road.
This is how my night is going so far. The bartender bought our last two rounds and I'm chasing a bee around the bar with a foam bat.
Sorry for all the texts. I got wasted and woke up at the foot of a staircase. From what I can gather, I fell down it.
I don't get hangovers. Except once. And there is a massively epic story behind that, involving so much alcohol I should have died, and 13 raw hotdogs.
I'm only wearing socks and eating tuna, don't do this to me right now.
we're like the harlem globetrotters of underage drinking
My ex's new girlfriends ex boyfriend is getting me my nipples pierced for Valentine's Day so who's the real winner here
THEY'RE TEXTING LIKE MIDDLE AGED SOCCER MOMS WHAT DO I DO
Currently having to re-watch episodes of Lost that I've only partially seen because you distracted me with your vagina
the girl next to me was drawing sonic the hedgehog on her exam what the fuck
godspeed
Can we be gay Bert and Ernie for Halloween?
Randomize
