The more I throw up, the more I am remembering exactly what I drank last night...in order.
This is the prime rib incident all over again
the more i look through evidence of last night, the less i seem to remember.
Do you think we're allowed to sign male strippers into the building with a valid id?
So she just apologized to the fire extinguisher.
No, no, no. Fuck you. I took a glass blowing class solely to learn how to make that bong. You shattered it and my dreams in a matter of five seconds.
Just now remembered singing Trashy Women at the reception. Not karaoke, just sang along with the mic I stole from the DJ. All while still in my dress drinking champagne from the bottle
I don't think I have but I might've died. If I have then come get me, I'm in the flower bed. And still game.
I just hit the bong during the whole bday song then blew the candles out with my exhale.
TONGUES ARE JUST MEAT TENTACLES IN OUR MOUTHS OMG
HOW ABOUT I DON'T WAKE UP TO THESE TYPES OF TEXTS
Maybe if he'd step up his game and get a real job instead of donating plasma and trying to grow pot then you wouldn't feel compelled to write prisoners in Oregon.
Romantically speaking, I want to sit on his face.
he came during what was supposed to be the foreplay blowjob. there goes my evening.
You know it was a weird week when you have a mystery bruise and youre unsure if it was from crazy sex or getting bit by a duck. Life.
He dated a girl who could do the damn splits on his dick like how do you compete with that
Randomize
