I love being friends with rich people. I get laid by association.
Like if god were to send me a cock shot, that's what it would look like.
He picked me up from the airport wearing nothing but a trench coat and a bow on his dick
I swear, if he gets me a bowling ball for Christmas, I will throw it at him.
I've had more sex in the two weeks since we broke up than I ever had in any two weeks we were together.
Just hooked up with the fireman who put out the quesadilla fiasco last tuesday.
Underwear, t-shirt, bottle of Pinot Grigio and Golden Girls. I've hit a new level of homosexual.
Guess who figured out you can fit an entire bottle of champagne in a big Subway cup. Open container laws my ass.
tanning, a slurpee, and a cigarette. spa day college edition
Ugh. I'm going to die alone, sister. Half-eaten by one of my thirty-seven cats and clutching a martini shaker
Well. At least he's a gentleman. A gentleman satanist.
He was nothing but deer-caught-in-headlight eyes and dick, it was adorable
And then the night went full on bisexual.
Our office went out together for the first time to celebrate the fact our coworker got fired.
I feel asleep with my contacts in, with my arms wrapped around a bottle of vodka. Also... Do we have class today?
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