they started playing Don't Stop Believin' and you had a melt down because it wasnt the Glee version
I woke up to my dog trying to clean my vagina.
I don't remember much but I know I looked hot.
My head. My head is the problem. Also alcoholism.
I woke up naked in his kitchen...His name is Mike and we're having a "what happened last night" beer.
I tried to sit on a barstool last night...it was an open trashcan.
So. I need to gloat. I couldn't exactly tell my family that I won this game by deep throating.
Get you some cowboy.
In that sentence you are the cowboy. That is not saying you should get a cowboy for yourself.
My black heart of coal cannot compete with your boiling crock pot of teddy bears, rainbows, 90s music, and the good candy you get from rich people on Halloween.
Try explaining "the nature of your relationship" to a cop when your fuck buddy vandalized your car. Priceless.
The ride home was alright, we hooked up in the street next to his car after he smashed into the guard rail
Hey can you tell Daniel there's a bottle of Captain Morgan's in the dryer ...
Sorry I think you have the wrong number
Yes it looks like I do
I think the pizza delivery guy is getting a handjob next door.
I forgot what I was gonna say, but I'm pretty excited to not be pregnant.
That same damn squirrel keeps staring at me like I did something wrong. Nature knows when you're hung over.
Randomize
