Um, that's called prostitution
Not if I leave it on the nightstand, then it's called cab money
remember when you told me, jokingly, to not get jizz on your shirt that i borrowed last night?
Great. There's a birthday party at work today. Now I can stand around and feel uncomfortable for an hour.
My bra smells like weed because there's weed in my bra
PS- did you die? If you did just text "dead" to me, so that I know.
I shaved my legs finally. I am starting to remember what my skin feels like.
We shared that special kind of eye contact that can only be experienced when you know one party is saying "Oh god, I fucked him in the back seat when you were in the front, didn't I."
Our local strip club now has karaoke. Do you realize what this could mean for my sex life?
im eating kix cereal and taking shots by myself. please come hang out with me. im desperate
It's fucking New Year's. I can be soberish in 2013 after tonight. It's like the 30 years of grey area between Jesus' birth and death.
I punched some guy in the face for being an asshole then later I went to say sorry and give him a hug and he started making out with me. How was your new years?
It was awk he was sittin on a plastic backyard chair in his underwear and high white socks in the dark watching the nuggets game
Being hungover in this office is the actual worst. Like they look at me and know I was wasted at 1 am, karaokeing Billy Idol at a gay bar.
I was christened with Fireball shots by some guy at the bar. I'm practically Jesus now.
Tinder in Coventry is like browsing a gallery of mugshots from Azkaban
Randomize
