I don't know if it's her mysterious past or atrocious grammar, but I think I'm in love.
His hands were made for my vagina.
Easy Mac is falling out of my sweatshirt as I'm walking down the street.
ambylanc
what?
there was an amgbulance. iw ish i was in it.
So help me Jesus we're never drinking together again. But weekends don't count. Amen.
I liked a picture of him with his pants around his ankles, if that doesn't say I'm into you, I don't know what does.
He just told me what he wants for his birthday. "a noise complaint" he also said he wants to be the cause of all the noise but he won't be the one making the noise.
There was a time I was reining queen of Sunday funday... And at that same time I also weighed 20 pounds more, had the morale of a spearmint rhino stripper, and woke up most mornings asking more questions than fucking Barbara Walters. I think I just wrote my own epitaph.
I'm to the point where I'm fantasizing about Iron Chefs going down on me.
I also slapped not one but two bananas on the ass, twerked in public, and I think I made out with someone
Apparently I blacked out and started wrestling with some dude last night. Just found out I might have dislocated his shoulder. Best part: he still wants to bone me
I'm only bisexual one week out of the month. Nothing like ovulation hormones to make the genders of my hookups seem completely irrelevant.
Only great wives bring your dope to you when you are at the Cardiologist
The last thing I remember is being given a cup full of absinthe and deciding I needed to wear my tool belt
You were returned to the hotel by someone wearing a priest costume and carrying knives.
She was sitting on the couch in his tux jacket...no pants, eating cold vegetable lasagna. Yet I'm the weirdo?
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