i think i'm in class. and blacked out.
My t9 writes chubies instead of bitches.
either way. win, win.
He keeps saying he loves me and ruining perfectly good conversations.
the line for where the wild things are looks like radiohead had sex with an urban outfitters
Someone's playing Limp Bizkit out loud on the train. I think the decade reset it self.
Some random slut told me I was a good dancer then gave me a handjob. I felt like fucking John Travolta.
I introduced him to the male G-Spot. Don't ever tell me I'm not experienced.
Your scrotum should have touched every square inch of that place by now. Start with the water fountain.
is it sad that I can recall my outfits by who took them off?
Let the vodka take you where it will. Like Pocahontas, but wasted
I wish drunk me wasn't so into manscaping. Or at least good at it. Either or really
Simple math equation: Up till 5 a.m. drinking + up at 9 a.m. for nephews birthday party = puking in the pool
Lets just say...I plan on being a bigger shitshow than Miley Cyrus at the VMA'S
His dick was so bent it was like fucking captain hook's hand for 2 hours
I’m not washing my pussy with handsoap.
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