Her life has all the ingredients for a how to book: Making Your Life an Epic Fail
Call me back. I want to hear your side of the dead cat in my garage story.
margarita wednesday is really going to dip into new year's eve thursday
taking a shot every time they compare curling to a real sport
currently hungover, lying in bed and cutting cheese with my drivers license. ashamed? not even a little bit.
When i asked him what happened all he said was, the toucan... the toucan... over and over again.
I can't believe you're fucking in the bar bathroom, but everyone else can, and they're really proud.
so i don't know how many beers it takes to make a recliner look like a toilet, but that's how many i had.
I had a dream about a turtle sitting on top of a horse skull. I'm certain its a symbol for my dead sex life. Trust me.
No idea. I woke up in the middle of the night to you drooling and gnawing on my arm. Then you rolled over, punched the air 4 times, then proceeded to talk about your hair in your sleep.
He always takes me to get taco bell after we hook up in his car. It's sort of become a booty call tradition.
He tried to convince me that it wasn't really that small and all he had to do was pull back the groin fat. It was still small.
If by "Are you drunk?" you mean "Did you just faceplant in the checkout line at Target?" the answer is yes.
Did you know that taking off a bra with teeth burns ninty calories?
You got kicked out after 30 minutes, 3 beers and 2 shots. Group record. Also you kept rubbing his belly and calling him buddha.
Randomize
