So how was he last night?
Five-minute foot-long.
cannot fit in my clothes. too depressed to drink.
if you drink enough to puke, it's like a weight loss plan.
I just realized that when I walk away people probably say "wow she really has a drinking problem" and sadly it doesn't bother me.
does he have a tent? the camping kind not the boner kind.
I have a running excel spreadsheet detailing the number of shots in a night and subsequent ability to masturbate
I would get the one fuckin stripper that's a lesbian. THE ONLY ONE
There are taser marks on me. Your face flashed before my eyes when i woke up and saw them.
It's my diet secret . . . it's like slimfast but I call it cockfast instead.
We didn't talk. I watched you drop an egg on the floor. And watched you praise your haunted broom.
WHY IN THE FUCK DID YOU LET ME DRUNK PUNCH STEVE? HE IS SUCH A NICE GUY!
I dunno what the deal was, but you spent about an hour trying to put your phone charger in the outlet and you were yelling "one plug to rule them all"
Why did I see a weird snapchat of you barking at McDonald's last night?
I mixed Jack with hot chocolate. This may be the best or worst idea ever. I have yet to find that out
bitch, i have a flask. i've got things under control.
god. marry me.
It was only a blow job in his car. It's the same as giving a friend a back rub.
Randomize
