you really need to stop walk of shaming home from theme parties.
This martini tastes like the bartender stirred it with his foreskin.
I just tried to light a cigarette with a tube of lipstick. If I had stayed in girl scouts maybe I could've made that happen.
I walk in to see her roommate half naked on their stripper pole. I knew I was home.
This dude has my number from April last year. Drunk me left sober me a puzzle. No confirmation of pants off business
Vodka?
Forever.
I'm trying to decide whether it's worth it to masturbate in this gas station bathroom
I'm not judging you. Just know that you could be Queen of The World. Instead you're 5:28 p.m ponging. I hope you're at least winning
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.
When you left the bar, you did two cartwheels and a heel click and RAN ALL THE WAY HOME.
ditto.
about cumming, not toast
Crust to egg proportion prescribes to a pedantic form of quiche. It's like saying breakfast pizza isn't pizza at all.
Someone needs to lock me in a chastity belt because all my vagina does is get me into trouble. Fuck.
His name was toto. That should have been my red flag
and please, if you feel the urge to call me crying tomorrow night, do so. i will be home bored and sober.
Randomize
