I feel like death. And death is wearing a fleece blanket as a dress. And is seriously contemplating wearing this to go get something to eat.
two of my INSANE ex girlfriends just texted me saying their coming over because im home alone. needless to say, im deleting my twitter.
She woke up laying on my kitchen floor, ketchup bottle as her pillow, in front of my fridge.
I just bought the ATT family protection plan so that I could block all of my old bar hookups from booty calling me...
Just say its a British thing. They wont know Its not. And if they say you're not British, proposition them for a post-sex game of cricket.
you're going to have to hot glue me into my dress tonight. there's no way out.
Some clips from last night: grinded like I haven't since college. Took shots with a bartender with a bad ass mustache. Made up a string of lies with fake names and occupations. Slept behind the couch with pizza in my hand
At some point during thanksgiving the image of me pooping on ur moms chest will come to you. Your welcome!
i know i shouldn't tell you this since i want you to really like me but i just spent the last 4 hours sleeping on the toilet.
The bartender had to walk me home last night. New high or new low?
you can't tell me not to come to work cause roads are bad then ask me an hour later to come in and expect me to be sober
After an orgasm, I always feel the urge to sing A Whole New World from the move Aladdin and I'm not quite sure why.
Oh lord. I have no recollection. I just got up. Surveying the damage. Found phone with messages out by pool. Still have not located my top or determined when i stopped wearing it
And I mentioned the burning debate about your circumcision in my Christmas card to your mom.
My boob job is like a master key that gets me in any door, any party and anyone’s pants! They’re magical!
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