at one point last night, you were literally auctioning me off. "reeeally drunk hot girl ! we'll start the bidding at an ice cold corona. oh, we have a bidder! do i hear a shot of whiskey? going once, going twice.."
youre welcome
My corndog is like a popsicle of bread. A WHOLE. POPSICLE. OF BREAD.
Fuck winter. I had to scrape my windshield, shoeless, after the walk of shame so I could go home.
There's a bed on the roof. The window behind it is too small for it to go through. I'm impressed.
i think when the guy sitting in the corner singing tells you you're too drunk, you're too drunk.
So apparently after I spilled candle wax down the front of my pants, I went to the store, bought condoms, and passed them out to everyone at the bar.
I thought they were lying to me about the condoms, until I found the receipt in my pocket.
I HAVE A GENTLEMANLY VAGINA.
I've been to his house multiple times since that night and I STILL can't find my bra. And he says the hot tub ate my thong.
And I must've sleep walked to the fridge cause when I woke up, there I was, balls deep in a fudge pop.
Your uterus is safe from my father's misconstrued prophecies.
Why is it pressure? I want to see your cute face and possibly sit on it. You make it like its a bad thing.
I am literally so hung over that I just opened up my emergency kit, got out a survival meal replacement bar and ate it.
he was Irish, I had to have sex with him.
Puking out the window is really hard when you're the one driving.
Took my nervous poop earlier then expected it's gonna be a good day
Randomize
