I wish Morgan Freeman narrated my life.
I just saw Ann slam dunk her puke bag into a trash can on Avenue A. You ladies might want to consider putting the Patron shots down and going home.
But I always wanted my obit to read "Died violently in casino orgy," not "Never woke up from rectal surgery."
Walked into a liquor store bleeding. That kind of night.
Sorry for my penis texting you last night, I can't control what he wants at 4am.
Don't upload the drink o meter to your google calendar. Somehow binge drinking looks even worse with a time stamp.
Emergency! LinkedIn connected me to a hotornot hookup from sophomore year... slutty phase sphere has officially invaded grown up professional sphere. My illusions of interweb sexual anonymity have been exploded.
Europe's "the final countdown" was playing. It was pretty much amnesty for anything that might happen the rest of the night. It's a rule.
I'm a busy girl. All I wanted was noncommittal sex a few times a week
I'm sorry but you're choosing a girl that faked a pregnancy when you wouldn't return her calls over a more attractive sane girl who you begged for a chance with last week? God you're a loser.
If you buy me a steak I will make the extra effort to ride you. If not, I'm just gonna lay there.
THIS IS AN AMERICAN HORROR STORY I CAN'T FIND MY VIBRATOR ANYWHERE WHICH MEANS I LOST IT WHEN I MOVED WHICH MEANS MY POOR VIBRATOR IS OUT THERE IN THE WORLD ALL ALONE RIGHT NOW WHAT AM I GOING TO DO
Turns out end of the world sex is H-O-T, HOoot! I'll be the only progressive lady smiling today
Sorry about peeing on your phone last night
You were so drunk Last night you asked for your glasses so you could read the directions on a band aid
Randomize
