i should write a book entitled 'the joys of being sexually objectified'
If there is ever a next time, care about me enough to lube it up no matter what my drunk ass says
I found you laying in the kitchen with a bottle of vodka and a slice of bologna on your face. You said you were having a spa day.
Even completely stoned shes amazing on the piano. There are like 7 people sitting on the ground listening to her like she's the messiah.
It was the best present I've gotten since I was 5 and I got a fucking easy bake oven. I'm not pregnant for realsies. Celebratory party at the house tonight. Invite all the nice dicks you know.
We had three bowls going. It was a tri-bowl tournament. Harry potter shit.
Nothing quite like coming out of an alcohol induced blackout walking down Spruill Avenue carrying a silver briefcase full of IT tools you don't know where they came from. This is my life.
I'm looking for mother nature. And when I find her, I'm looking her right in the eyes and telling her to fuck off.
I just saw a herd of slutty loofahs run down the street...
Since you're going to wake up and see one bajillion missed calls from me, I just want you to know that's a perfectly reasonable number. Now come downystairs.
Well. I went to a frat party where they mixed gin and Mountain Dew. My kingdom for some olives and vermouth.
So....I just took a paddle fan on high speed to the side of the head while getting head...still finished the job, good thing I'm drunk and couldn't feel it.
I think he's only dating me for my ass...
It’s like my vagina just knows when a man is a barrel-chested freedom fighter.
And then he tried to convince me that he could wear a condom instead of pants to go out.
Randomize
