I can't tonight. I'm still nursing a beach sex injury. Don't wanna talk about it.
I thought I drunk dialed Adam last night and left him a voicemail. I just checked my phone. I realize I left a drunk voicemail with my son's teacher.
Good face, no body. And apparently her vagina is related to chewbaca.
I'm such a slut...i kept having sex with him after he called me his ex gf's name. I just felt like i deserved something out of it too.
i don't remember but I assumed it was bad when I woke up with directions from his house to mine already pulled up on my phone
He kept dropping hints about giving me crabs. Like he called my pubes a nest and said he "hoped there weren't any eggs in there."
He got punched in the face, dropped his laptop down a flight of stairs, and broke his roommate's lava lamp, getting all the toxic lava goo everywhere. This is why we don't let him get drunk. And yet here we are.
I. Put. Them. Back. We are NOT making a habit of jail visits.
Our 450 pound cab driver smells like McDonalds and sunblock with a touch of vodka. Correction I smell like vodka.
Like I had to call my dad because I couldn't manage to unlock the door. And when he got there to open it I was climbing the gate to get in.
Maybe it's just my body's way of telling me I don't need pinky toes. Like I'm the next evolutionary leap or something...
I forgot I did whipits. Probably because my brain cells were killed from the whipits
No one will ever find true happiness until they have gotten stoned and taken off the bra they've been wearing all day.
You, my dear friend, are a poet of the deep mental longings of women worldwide.
I should become her mentor. Get her life back together for her
You mean sponsor?
I just paid $10 for tinder plus so that I could change my location to Rio and match with Olympic Athletes
Randomize
