I think I just got a contact from my own exhale. Def dying.
In order of importance: Where am I? Where's my car? Where are my clothes? Who is this chick in the room?
Anne's couch, the bar, your car, Anne.
I shouldn't be home alone with this much peanut butter and the dog. I feel like i'm being recorded to see when my desperation will peak.
And by "hammer out the details" you know I mean spending 20 minutes on wedding plans then getting wine drunk, right?
So the keyword here is "hammered"?
Just so you know, a 6'7" tall gay man, with a martini in one hand and a fairy wand in the other, is not a force to be reckoned with...don't ask.
All I want to do on Facebook today is comment on people I knew in high schools profile pictures and tell them how much uglier they are now.
On Wednesday I'm putting wine in a water bottle and crashing Margaret thatchers funeral
She just left someone a voicemail saying 'you better not have plans Saturday night, cause I'm going to sit on your face.'
Pretty sure when I woke up the next morning we were still fucking. It just didn't stop.
I think he's an actor
That's not a good enough reason to wear guy-liner
don't bring your nerd jargon into this conversation about my naked body
When I came out of the bathroom you were naked dead asleep on the couch but your dick was still rock hard standing straight up. I almost took a pic. It was impressive.
Accent: check. Hot body: check. 8" dick: check. Feeds me biscuits in bed after rampant sex: check. Should I continue with my "Why I'm not coming back to the States" List?
Oh! I forgot to tell you. Part of that weird ass dream last night. I was jamie lee curtis and I cut off all my hair because yogurt.
Don’t drink the Bloody Mary - it’s vodka and salsa.
Randomize
