Last night was an abortion. I might need a publicist.
went out last night and woke up on the bathroom floor again, thinking about just moving my bed in there.
i wish i could, but i promised myself i wouldn't sleep with anyone who couldn't grow a beard for a while. it's not you, it's crosby.
i was told that i was found face down in a plate of ketchup at the dinner table
That's because you're a slut. A slut fucking a fence.
I'm pretty sure every guy I've been with this weekend has made a solid attempt at getting me pregnant...
They're basically the Kennedys. This is the family I fucked in to. I'm so proud of my vagina as much as it feels shitty for my heart.
You kept trying to get the girl i brought home to hook up with you by enticing her with 12 baconnators you brought home
I don't care how hungry or impatient you are. the highest setting on the microwave is 100% and you better not take it appart to add power. This is not the Enterprise.
I just watched in amazement as you had a full conversation about water temperature and bacteria with your pet goldfish.
I would have cried, probably tears of wine, but cried nonetheless.
it still weirds me out that Robin Thicke is Alan Thicke's son
They were arguing about who would hit the piñata first so naturally you tore it open with your hands. You broke the piñata and their hearts.
He had really great hair, but he told me he's been in a psych ward three times. I mean I know I'm a psych major, but that's too much.
I want to respect them as people, but really I just want to have sex with them.
Randomize
