i threw up in a trash can last night at kellys irish times. but in a trash can because i'm a lady
It was like a drunk episode of Dora the Explorer. In English.
Making and watching you take a mixed shot with vodka, chocolate syrup, tobasco sauce, cranberry juice, and sundried tomato juice wasnt the highlite of my night. Hearing you puking from downstairs was.
STOP CALLING ME LADY CHLAMYDIA
The chick I hooked up with last night is my girlfriend older sister. Who is in town visiting. Who I just met. Who I just had dinner With. Who is here along with their parents and the whole family. How did my luck get so bad?
That's because "bed time" is my sex playlist. If you're trying to fall asleep use "nap time"
I feel like I've been hit by a truck, flew up and landed on a fence post that went straight through my vagina. No more vodka and sex for a while.
like seriously. this whole place is the shit. like i can move clouds. no other way to explain it but i can fucking move clouds.
First of all you're supposed to say "you're not fat". And second of all never ever deprive me of nachos.
I'll just give him your contact info, and you'll somehow manage to get laid. Which will make me feel like your vagina's agent or something.
She's blowing me while I'm watching air jaws. I love shark week.
Ugh, once again I had to block the view of him peeing off the hotel bar balcony, I earned those free drinks!
You made noises. And kept meowing. I have a twenty minute phone call to prove it.
He was tied up with the electrical tape and force fed wine from a box. It was never going to end well.
I dont know who to turn my two weeks notice into so I'm just going to get hammered at work and see who fires me.
Randomize
