it is 7:54 and i am surrounded by drunk old people. drunk enough that my grandmother and her friend just compared boobs. as in, shirts off, bras coming down. save me.
I woke up to ritz crackers on the lawn, a keystone behind the hedge and puke on the rental car... i think that we have become that house...
It can't be good... The last recollection I have is singing lullabys to his penis
When you hit the 45 minute mark of any argument about The Flintstones, you have to realize: it's no longer you arguing, it's the cocaine arguing.
He said the last thing he remembered thinking was: 'Why is this vagina spinning?' Too drunk sex is no ones friend.
I didnt want you guys to know I needed to puke, so I just nonchalantly did in my solo cup and threw it out the window
He's holding a pee stick. Yes it's weird.
I'm more worried that you thought licking a pole on Bourbon street would turn me on
She wouldnt stop trying to stick her finger in my ass. I wish she wasnt so hot
okay, but you can't tell anyone. Every time he instagrams something with the caption "avocado," it means he's booty calling me. Happy?
Your actions as of last night have earned you over thirty new nicknames.
I sleep better at night when I win things. I never really weep for others.
He doesn't have much of a personality but he makes up for it with his sexual prowess
keeper.
You know, you could always move. Lol somewhere without gators, water moccasins, and Marco Rubio.
And my butt misses you like the deserts miss the rain.
Randomize
