All I remember is yelling at him to admit he liked Bon Jovi, then accusing him of giving love a bad name.
i'm dressed up like the coppertone baby and being hit on a guy in a monk costume. the irony is not lost on me.
sitting in room practicing taking shots. has my life come to this?
It doesn't matter if he doesn't speak English because I speak the international language of blowies.
I can't. I can't get out. He cooked me food. And made me jager bombs. And painted a glow in the dark smilie face on my boobs
Did you rob me and blame it on the strippers?
You are the only one who would stop a bum, tell him to open up, then pour straight vodka in his mouth. You made his year.
You are the only person I know who got away with wearing a turtleneck while getting laid. ONLY person.
I can't find my underwear or one of my shoes but he baked me cookies for breakfast.
He gave me a trycicle he stole from a kid as an "offering" to have sex. I couldnt say no when he went through all that.
Did you see the video of me eating a marshmellow on fire?
You realize your sleeping pills are working when you pick up your iPhone and almost bite it because you thought it was a graham cracker
I have the most nasty and explicit wet dreams of my boss that I'm embarrassed to look him in the face. I'd be pregnant or promoted if he only knew
Oh my god if I have to go on fetlife to find a guy who will fuck me right around here, I'm going to scream.
I just set my mike's hard down and didn't want it to spill, so I held my finger up and told it to shoosh. I'm drunk.
Randomize
