This guy just brought his piggy bank into the bar with him. Talk about corruption of childhood.
I had to call maintenance to come unclog the toilet.
Something to remember me by.
Things got a little weird when he fired up his homemade flamethrower in the living room.
I don't know at least half of his name. I have officially become a statistic.
I don't care. I'll be that guy that eats cake in a car. Alone. With the doors locked.
The fact that both my ribs are severely bruised from shoving flasks in my bra might be a validation of my mothers alcoholic accusation
Thanks for putting pants on me last night. And for calling me a princess.
No, no, we have to calibrate. What is the maximum amount of trouble we can get into without going to jail?
Dress was in bathroom covered in shards of glass, earrings on living room floor, bracelet still missing, purse in backyard. The cast of Princess Bride all left the bar to make sure I was ok. Perfect night
I'm texting an actual stripper. A male stripper. I dont wanna talk about it yet
I say camping because "let's go get hammered in the woods" sounds kinda fucking weird to be honest.
He came so fast i dont think he got it all the way in. He apologized and gave me his favorite baseball card.
We will just distract him with tacos and porn.
he's annoying when i'm sober but vaguely hot when i'm drunk so yes i do have a preference and it goes by the name of vodka
Please come pick up your twin. She's tap dancing in her underwear and that's not how you want yourself represented.
Randomize
