I'm 3 blocks south of you watching drag queens.
Dont judge me. Him and his friends got me drunk for free, the least i could do was suck his dick
he is the anna nicole to my 90 year-old billionaire. i'm grateful that he's fucking me, so i'm buying him shit.
Some random slut told me I was a good dancer then gave me a handjob. I felt like fucking John Travolta.
Your maid of honor is passed out in a golf cart on the 18th hole.
the last thing i remember is yelling at the cab driver that i'm really good at drive by vomitting.
I may or may not have just sent the bartender a pic of me in my slutty cheerleader costume with the caption "rah rah ree, gimme yo d"
please, i've had weekends with less dignity than this.
So ive come to the realization that my affinity for tattooed guys makes me the literal definition of tit for tat
just because you have a nice tits it doesn't make you a magic little snowflake.
I just want the relationship Bob and Linda Belcher have- is that too much to ask?!
He had a clap on lamp. So every time he was ramming into me, the lights kept turning on and off
My girl friends dad just asked how I get so drunk and then he passed out with a bloody Mary in his hand on the couch it's 230 do you know where your parents are
you were making out with a girl because you told her you were part of Nsync
It took me twenty minutes to read that sentence.
All I said was okay...
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