The highlight of my Saturday night was singing along to the sound of music alone in my room.
are you drunk enough to hook up with me yet?
you never know, standards drop, they turn gay, shit happens.
so its thursday, which means its time to resume communication with you
My main thought on the Olympics: I need LESS cowbell.
Remind me to tell you the one about the cashier that wouldn't sell me Jim Beam and NyQuil.
Precisely. She's an awesome drinking companion; yet, not so awesome mother-in-law material.
Even though we had just had to physically take her off of someones lawn she was peeing on when they came outside, she still insisted on walking unassisted the rest of the way home. It was dignity meets shit show.
Nothing like moscato in your sinuses tobmake your night complete
And dildos are 35% off. So. Ya know. Savings.
I was just laughing and almost crying after I orgasmed, and then almost crying because I was laughing so hard. That's new.
Does he think you're psycho?
Officially...... yes.
5% want to drink juice and feel better, 95% just want to touch your butt
You should come over tomorrow. Wine, pizza and my vagina. Those are all great things.
Bottom line; if I'm coming out of my bat cave to do the dishes and get a chicken wing and I have no pants or makeup on and my messy bun looks more like Santa got leprosy and crashed his sled into the back of my head then let me be. That's all I'm saying.
what is considered shitting yourself?
Like my underwear wasn't soiled, but there was definitely a departure from my asshole.
Randomize
