..well, okay, so long as I don't have to wear an apron or vaccum in high heels.
nope just do me i'm drunk and easy to plz
I saw a sign that said worlds largest frying pan next exit. Way to do your fucking part Iowa.
I don't know if it's her mysterious past or atrocious grammar, but I think I'm in love.
He gave me his number and said the usual call whenever you need someone but then was like... or just call me.
You would pick up a guy in AA.
Even the bar was yelling boobs, so of course the shirt came off
White grape blunt wraps are like the equivalent of a glass of wine in a tux.
Just me. You're probably having sex with her right now, so here's a reminder that you should be thinking of me per our agreement.
I feel like I have two modes: Super fuckin high, or super giddy from caffeine. I have learned to accept this.
WAIT DID YOU MAIL ME A KITTEN
BING! You are now free to move about my panties. He just left for work.
I feel like my body was put in a dryer with rocks set on permanent press.
Is there a polite/non-lush way to ask how alcohol ranks on their list of priorities? Because like idk how to break the ice furreal.
I'm at that stage of drunk where just imagining having sex makes me motion sick.
I wanna stuff your vagina full of Reese's peanut butter hearts and eat you clean
Please explain the hospital band on my wrist.
Randomize
