Last night I got a napkin with 4 names & numbers: Katie, Ellen, Kylie...and Brandon.
she's in the bathroom. spitting in the trashcan. not throwing up. just spitting and singing bad romance by lady gaga.
thatta girl
Just shot my load on a stink bug. Thought you should know.
separated laundry into 'got laid' and 'didn't get laid' piles.
If after tonight I can still walk on my own, take me to another bar.
i'm exhausted. do you know how hard it is to put together an outfit that is professional enough to secure a babysitting job yet slutty enough to let him know i'm down for sex during naptime?
Careful, it's a slippery slope to discovering you're bisexual...trust me.
He had a tramp stamp of his own phone number. You can't tell me that isn't smart.
You. Dating a sex offender cop. Life writes itself sometimes.
Next time she asks for a ride to her "cousins" house and it turns out to be a booty call we're charging her for each mile.
Of the past 48 hours, 46 of them have been spent naked. I'd say it's been a good two days.
How much booze could a drunk brad chug when a drunk brad does chug booze?!?
All. The answer is always all
With great liquor, comes great irresponsibility. Remind me of this night tomorrow.
If it's any consolation she turned out to be has a collection of clown dolls she talks to crazy. And the cops knew why I was calling when she key locked the door from inside.
Arrived home from picking Mom and Nana up at the airport to find Marc buck ass nude beneath the Christmas tree. Nana says she always knew I was queer.
Randomize
