textsfromlastnight.com keeps rejecting me
that alone proves you never get laid, nor have a life.. or have anything funny to contribute to the world.
he was so nervous about his first time.. it was like michael j. fox trying to put on a condom...
when i got there he was on top of an air mattress in the middle of the pool with a bag of doritos and a 40 telling people he needed his space.
In a cab. Towels everywhere. Confused.
I just beer bonged. Soco and spite please get on my levvl my hair is in buns
yeah, i found the sharpie that everyone use to sign my tits last night. its dead.
Last I remember we played rock paper scissors for who would fuck the guy with cowboy boots on and I won..
If I had pants on, you wouldn't be getting this text message
I can say with 87% certainty that i received one of the world's five greatest blow jobs since the Coolidge administration on Saturday night.
Will you trust fall hold me, so I can pee of this building.
She was two things I dont understand: tall and Christian
That isn't the worst part. It got a bazillion times more awkward when he read me a poem he wrote about his dead cat.
Crying into a glass of wine at 10 am isn't exactly how I planned this day to go
I am going home. I have pee on my pants. Rachel is driving and I and drunk. It is not Rachels pee. It is my pee.
Ya that dick wasn't worth burning a perfectly good pizza.
You live and learn.
Randomize
