and trust me i need no booty pop lessons
There is something about listening to Patsy Cline while pooping that makes the experience so much better.
When i asked him what happened all he said was, the toucan... the toucan... over and over again.
Interesting preview of what next year will be like. Side note, missing a chunk of flesh from my middle finger.
The security guard told you that the room was off limits and you just looked at him and said,"Its okay, I have a beard".
we were walking and you spelled the word "oats" to prove you weren't drunk.
I'm pretty sure whiskey overrules bulimia in the eyes of Texas boys
Last time I stayed at my moms my fucking car got set on fire sooo maybe I should think this through.
I just saw an appointment in my phone called "it's been a month" I think I drunkly did that after I slept with Paul to remind myself to check if I got knocked up... I'm smarter drunk than sober.
I was like a migrating bird last night. Navigating on pure instinct. Don't remember how... but I made it home.
WHEN THE FUCK DID MCDONALD'S DECIDE TO QUIT SERVING BURGERS AT 1:00AM?
I would peed on everything
All I know is I woke up with his business card in my bra and in my handwriting on the back it says 8 inch.
You knocked on your freshman year room door, told the kids who opened it "I own you", and attempted to force-feed them everclear.
There's no button for "gave my boyfriend's cock to a friend" on my intimacy calendar.
After the bar we stopped to Meijer where I found myself singing little mermaid while rubbing a pack of hotdogs on my face..
Randomize
