Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
When she showed me how she could touch her toes without bending her knees, suddenly her face didn't worry me quite as much.
He was completely serious when he said my boobs were like "majestic white clouds."
Woke up with a migrane, threw up blood, then my headache went away. I'm going to convince myself that it was just a bad batch of blood so I can drink again tonight
I just looked at a girl and was like what disease does she have? And then my mind caught up ohhh shes pregnant.
2012 needs to end already. I've exceeded my quota for People Who Have Accidentally Seen My Tits.
You're the common denominator of my blackouts.
BUT I think maybe Thursday in celebration of America we should probably tan and see how fast we can finish everything in the liquor cabinet.
I'm like going proud parent over you doing drugs, this is so wrong.
I'm giving head in a stairwell, I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm so ashamed.
The girl who comes up after me always strips to Lana Del Rey. I didn't think working in a strip club could be any more depressing.
but if we have a President Trump come Tuesday, I might throw myself off the Walt Whitman Bridge so Thursday might not work for me after all.
"WHAT IS THIS LESBIAN MADNESS"
He's a downgrade and it was quick. But it was dick nonetheless.
Hitting up all my dealers for my birthday grams is paying off
Randomize