I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
Yeah i mean there's 3 guys fighting over me. It would just be bitchy of me not to get with at least 1.
Apparently on the way out of the ER i asked the nurse to doggie-bag me some more morphine.
Dude. He only had one testicle. It was like his whole package was a Muppet Show character coming at me.
Dude. Once again. Cleaning house. Found weed I hid from myself a month ago. Celebrating/testing it out. if i dont text back in 10, call dominos.
sometimes when you're high at work you just have to say fuck it and eat the dog treats
Highlight of the weekend: getting roundhouse kicked in the dick while switching from reverse cowgirl.
So "I hate myself Mondays" has extended to Tuesday this week. I just had peanut butter and a glass of wine for lunch.
If God invented something better than rough, drunken, lesbian sex he kept that shit to himself.
Also I can show up hungover, fall asleep at my desk, and smell like a bottle of whiskey, and they still like me more then my shitty co worker
Safe to say we should stock up on nipple bandaids ladies
I'm getting 800 nuggets from McDonald's
His condition for us having sex was that I wore my show boots. #equestrianproblems
you told us the chicken was mocking you, then proceeded to explain that every time someone reads your mind you accidentally think of something sexual
I CAN'T FALL IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE WHO HAS A LISP. I JUST CAN'T.
Randomize
