one should ask oneself what kind of lifestyle one is leading when one finds a handprint of semen on their pillow the next day.
how was last night?
i woke up with my hand stuck in a jam jar with my keys in the bottom and a dog licking peanut butter off my boobs. you tell me.
you don't understand, he speaks spanish and is tall. i have to do him.
I feel like after all he sees, the dog needs to get baptized.
well, i woke up this morning to a note i left myself my dry erase board, "dear you: i had sex with someone awful."
You weren't a difficult drunk to take care of. I just had to stop you from plunging the toilet once or twice.
You just said we could build a blanket and pillow "fuck fort." Of course I'm never leaving you.
Update: it wasn't just our driver. This ticket confirms that the Royal Oak PD also found our behavior on the party bus to be "Lewd and Indecent."
Found my bike today. On top of the garage. I'm not even going to ask myself why.
He simply fell in the fire, rolled out and continued to finish his bottle of vodka. Everyone else instantly sobered up just watching it.
I just want you to know that I think it is hilarious and wonderful that 40s are now your alcohol of choice.
You know what would make the espn body photos even better? If anyone knew who any of those fucking athletes were. That, and maybe not feature Gary Player.
You peed on a pole and declared to a cop that it was your pole and yelled at him to not even look at it, and then yelled at all of us for looking at it.
THE SUN DOESNT SET TIL 647 YAAAAASSSSSSSSSS. Goodbye seasonal depression hello regular depression
I'm naked, eating straight Nutella, and listening to "Make you feel my love" on repeat. So no. He didn't ask me out.
Randomize
