We found an eightball on the ground last night. I mean, really, who does that?
Bad news: I had to be at work at 7:15. Good news: no one had used the bathroom yet so I got to defile a freshly cleaned stall
...you put a chicken patty in my toaster last night..
I could hear them screwing through my bedroom wall again this morning, so I started beat boxing to the tempo.
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.
Bloody Mary Monday just took a turn for the worst... Just had a heart to heart talk with the cat about it's obsession with chewing on cardboard.... Time for a nap.
bah. we'll see. don't give yourself a boner of false hope.
I'm getting the lip of my vagina pierced & you expect ME to be the voice of reason?
Well, I tried to shit into my refrigerator. It was a rough night.
Also, upon examining the photos, I have concluded that you were the sloppiest drunk girl of the night. And that's saying something considering Hurricane Jessica was in town.
Although a guy bought me a shot of fireball last wknd and I told him he wouldn't even get half a handjob for that and walked away so don't tell me I don't have standards
He's a psychology major, so instead of becoming a stripper, I'm just working out my daddy issues with him. And his cock. And spankings.
They're much more educational now btw. Don't judge.
I'm sorry I never said I wasn't coming home last night. To my defense I did type and send a text, only I was too drunk to realize I sent it to the guy I was with instead of you.
She looked like a cross between Jesus and John Lennon. So I fucked her. I feel majestic and powerful.
Is it wrong for me to wish my cat had arms to get me a beer?
Randomize
