i am sick of getting naked and seeing how fat i am.
fighting downstairs. join me tonight to hear their makeup sex. also, let's make skittles vodka.
I fucking hate vegan toaster pastries. You don't fuck with poptarts. It's like baseball...it's the backbone of american sport and you don't change it. Poptarts are the backbone of american fatasses and you don't just go changing them.
I just googled maps his house, and took the virtual tour back to my apartment, just so I could visualize the walk of shame in the morning
The problem is he wears abercrombie jeans like there's nothing wrong with it
worst night to have a conscience
Aren't you glad we're at the point in our relationship where I don't even ask why you're hiding in the cabinet?
Apparently she doesn't appreciate the significance of eskimo sisterhood as much as I do.
Oh. And what's the twitter protocol for following the guy you blew behind a shed?
I can measure my amount of vomit in solo cups.
You insisted that your middle name was "velociraptor" for 20 minutes and every time someone said something you tried to relate it to velociraptors. That kind of drunk.
We had an in depth conversion about the best way to take a dick pic. Both with and without mirrors.
I'm honestly just now recovering from saint Patrick's day.
The highlight of the trip was definitely my dad telling me that I "used to be his prettiest daughter."
I get sad thinking about all the sex I’m missing out on because of the virus
I instituted “quarantine and chill” months ago. It’s not like penises go soft just because they’re working at home.
Randomize
