Those former-lesbian gone white-trash bars always seem to be your favorite.
If Andre Agassi did Crystal Meth, what was John McEnroe doing?
I'm trying to decide if I want to bring home my 'beer champion' trophy or my chem books.
It can't be good... The last recollection I have is singing lullabys to his penis
Chasing tequila with honey. Ill let you know how it turns out.
Midnight run for medical supplies ended several hours later with a lapdance to the Braveheart soundtrack.
Todays life lesson brought to you by last nights half pitchers of cheap sangria: you'll never get the stain or the SMELL of sangria vomit out of your bedroom carpet.
Sometimes familiar penis is best. Its like comfort food for your vagina.
All I want in life is to get high, take a shower, and him to go down on me. Simultaneously. That's legit my idea of heaven.
I woke up surrounded by goldfish. Thank God my laptop was here too. Now I don't have to leave my bed all day.
He looks like he was the one that always had koolaid stains around his mouth as a kid, he can fuck off.
I'n not even sure we went out, but I know we broke into a cemetery.
Well I mean enduring a 45 minute conversation about C-sections was worth the 9 jello shots those soccer moms gave me.
Someone broke into my car last night. Didn't take anything, even left the beer in my backseat. They need to get their priorities straight, obviously.
Like he legitimately was standing straight up, feet on the roof, not holding on to a moving car.
Randomize
