the last thing i remember is inserting the sippy stray into the jack daniel's.
I have no idea what happened last night, but you're the only person I remember smashing my face into. Be honored.
He came in, laid on our floor and started to make a snow angel.. On the floor. Then he just left never said a word. 20 mins later walked back in and dropped his pants, looked down and said "wow im happy i had boxers on."
hotel security told us you walked into the hotel with blood all over your dress, weren't wearing any underwear and were escorted back by three men who were believed to be "homosexuals".
The bar owner gave me permission to push people into the pool. I'm never going to leave Los Angeles
We can just keep having sex until one of us finds someone we actually like
It's like a toaster oven for my penis
Standing here wondering if its a good idea to cook pork chops in the toaster or not.
Can we just cry and dive into a couch-sized bag of sadness-chips, dip them in a la-z-boy sized jar of depression salsa while watching a show called 'Forget Your Hopes and Dreams, Just Kill Yourself'?
I just want to be like i dont know you but ive seen your penis & i like it
Sorry, I was watching the Olympic story about the Canadian guy and drinking out of the prescription bottle and crying because it was so beautiful.
So here's a brief summary of my weekend: last night I drank four glasses of Death Punch, grabbed the toaster, said "This is mine", put it in my pants and walked out the front door.
Woke up on the floor with shoes on my hands...I'd say it was a success
How did the date go? No fake eyeballs this time?
Make a note to pack something that won't catch shell casings in your cleavage
Randomize
