I just spent the last 30 minutes shaving my asshole.
there's something so ridiculous to me about watching someone with glasses exercising. it's like watching a whore studying in the library. stop trying to be someone you're not.
It's okay, I climbed on the roof of the bar to get my shoe back. This may become a Saturday tradition. I'll keep you updated
Sometimes I send them texts like "I want to make you cry and lick up your tears" just to fuck with them. And THAT is how you get rid of a Stage 5 clinger.
I'm a lady, I can't pee on the ceiling. Even I don't have that power.
Another Sunday, another 100 chicken nuggets
On the back of that comment, I've formed a theory that as a result of my brainwashing your drunk self actually believes that beards are your calling.
I opened up my wallet and it was filled with puke.
I'm going to practice throwing things up the the air and catching them between my boobs, because that seems like a cool party trick.
I'm getting offered Candy Crush lives in return for sex. Like wtf.
i threw up in his garden in front of like five people smoking a joint. they let me have a hit after i was done so it was okay
So our trip to Disney World ended in the three of us stripping at a gay club in orlando.
He offered me handsanitizer after a hand job, you can't tell me he's not perfect!
Also, can next Friday be Long Underwear Friday instead of Jockstrap Friday? Because I'm about to cough up a testicle.
Do exhausted, barely concealed hand jobs count as joining the mile high club?
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