Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
there's just something about her that screams "i'm into chicks who wear flannel"
My grandpa just complimented my boobs. Im taking this as a compliment but also brushing it off as alcoholism on his part.
I forget the details, but I'm told that I drunkenly stalked him around floor yelling obscure Jewish laws at him
He's acting like I should like him more than vodka and Taco Bell, but I just don't ser that happening.
Life just isn't the same without him waking me up at 4 in the afternoon with a look of pity on his face...
Also I just learned you, Samantha, and I three-way made out at my Halloween party. News to me.
Sex is always the answer.
Especially if the question is: what have I not had this year?
With 4 extra seconds dedicated to the dong.
These kind of text worry me.
If you don't see me at the bar tomorrow night, I was most likely captured by the communists.
There are no winners in a lube eating competition.
the fact that I always have. bottle of tequila in my purse is not helping my current sitch
I swear to God...this day is one great big who's who in the land of fucked uppedness.
Still had our rainbow strip poker new years tradition. End of night we were only wearing mask.
Did you get the usual surprise pics from the strange straight you like to sprinkle in.
Mom says you're allowed to come home if you replace the towels. I don't want to know why.
Randomize
