my "about me" section on Facebook should read "hell-bound alcoholic who wants to fuck a 40-year-old crackhead"
What are you doing?
High. Watching Billy Mays infomercials...
That guy could sell me cancer.
New moon trailer came on. Theater booed. I love these people.
Bad news is I found gravy in my nightstand again.
I am getting drunk. And i'm going to paint my face and slide down the stairs like Pochahontas. Goodbye
Went to the wedding reception, and he left with ALL of the brides maids phone numbers. I don't know how he does it either.
You said that about some fat chick sitting on the base of a lamp post and puking. Downright heroic.
It was like bizarre-o star trek. I shamefully went where every man has gone before.
Can we make a pact that if we're 40 and still sluts that aren't married we can get civil unioned the fuck up and raise an asian baby as our own?
Her craziness is the sexiest thing about her.
I can't wait to read your obituary.
We were basically fucking on the dance floor. People kept buying us drinks. It really only encouraged us.
Mom just told me I need to start having sex.
I wish I could have a tequila IV with me all the time. Intravenous tequila intoxication.
Whatever, ill dance on the bar at applebees, don't try and act like you're above it.
He referred to our sex as "an Olympic event." My tits are bruised.
Randomize
