So I have to ask... did I meet your lumberjack expectations? I mean, minus the red flannel and all.
Sooo sorry about that. And crying. And comparing my life to a duck
I took a bird feeder and filled it with alka-seltzer. Can you say fireworks?
bring the vodka.
i thought we were going to mcdonalds..?
we are.
I guess on the plus side everyone really, really enjoyed my nipple clamps
The brazilian leg lock that the stripper put me in was definitely the highlight of the night
Like an undercooked grilled cheese that got cold again. But hairy.
And there goes my desire for sandwiches. Forever.
I got asked to "be the filling in a man sandwich." You don't get to pick the club again. EVER.
No. Way more drunk than the night I put a snowball in my purse "for later" and woke up to find everything soaking the next day.
But less drunk than the day that Pete took four of your birth control pills thinking they were Advil, right?
There's some random guy here dryhumping my kitchen door. If he is a friend of yours, please come and retrieve him.
Congrats. You made me have an orgasm in Starbucks.
Changed all my ex bf's names to "no" in my phone so the next time I try to drunk text one of them it'll basically be like Russian roulette
Blame the bisexuality and move on?
Honestly cannot tell if I’m magical or really, really high.
Are we at that level of friendship where we can share slutty stories and not hold it against the other person at a later date ?
Randomize
