I'm totally counting that party when he kept putting his hands down my pants as a date.
So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
Lots of explosions. Minor nudity. Full penetration and lots of tuxedos.
He got drunk and insisted on licking my eyeball and called it a test of my trust in him.
Doing lines of cocaine in the bathroom and the word 'better' do not belong in the same sentence.
Yeah that's one way to look at it on the other hand MY FUCKING BED CAUGHT ON FUCKING FIRE
He told me "it wants a kiss" WHY HAS THIS HAPPENED WITH 2 DIFFERENT PEOPLE.
I woke up with a russian doll attached to my necklace and a post-it note with "keep babushka safe" written on it. Fuck vodka
I'm going to make "gut the love salmon" a common slang term for sex. Spread the word.
He had "Bad Bitches Only" tattooed above his dick. I don't know his name but I hope I find him again. I also don't feel that I lived up to the challenge.
I don't know, but I assume drunk me had her reasons. I trust her judgement.
I farted in his bed and then in my drunken stupor grabbed hair defanging spray to cover up the stench.
After an hour of searching for my pants, we had three people looking. They were finally found in the oven.
I lose my morals, my dignity, and my selfie stick :(
Jarrod's passed out on the chair with a cup of milk and I've been staring him down in an attempt to use telepathy to make him spill it. Attempts unsuccessful.
Randomize
