Jake died.
WTF????????? That's how you tell me????
Oops typo. Jake cried.
things it involved: vodka, boy parts, possible photos of me on a cell phone. things it did NOT involve last night: my bra, his pants, and sobriety.
Every time I hang out with your gay friend, I have to make a checklist of words to look up when I get home. First Google of the night? "Power bottom."
You better not fucking die before we have sex while you blow fire. I'm serious. Don't mess up my sexual bucket list.
You were throwing up and said, "Whipe my face, I must look presentable at all times."
I feel like this has turned into my work. But if I get paid sitting under a desk, that's perfectly fine with me.
I need to puke. I need a shower. I need rehab. I need to detox and puke. I feel like demons are inside of me.
I love being high. The owl outside stopped who-ing and I could swear I just heard someone say, "Okay, that's a wrap!"
The wizard has you scheduled for a 6am sex breakfast
I'm so there
Sometimes you've gotta crawl to stay concious
It's gotten to the point that when I close my eyes to cum all I see is candy crush
I accidentally gave my prayer card to the bouncer. Clearly a cry for help #saveme
Oh and people at work think i got knocked up so my gay roomie is claiming it as his lol
there is puke in my bra ... again
I mean she's doing calculus in her head to prove how NOT drunk she is.
Randomize
