it is 7:54 and i am surrounded by drunk old people. drunk enough that my grandmother and her friend just compared boobs. as in, shirts off, bras coming down. save me.
season finale of lost and an oz of weed. tonight my mind is going to be blown.
There are bruises on the top of my foot. The pole won.
let's just say I never want to get pulled over and have to explain to the cop why I'm wearing a false beard again.
Bartenders are not toys. I repeat, bartenders are not toys.
Her fortune said that she will soon be free. She's taking her bra off at the table.
Embrace your curves. Cuz we're too poor for a coke habit.
She tried to gratify me left handed. Let's just say I've been placed on the 15 day DL.
Would it be wrong to text my ex and say "congratulations on the new baby that you had with a stripper"?
I swear she is the Mary Poppins of drugs
I can't hang out tomorrow. A boy wants to feed me ice cream and touch my boobs. Priorities.
I mean, you've had my nipples in your mouth now, so I think we've reached a certain level of friendship.
ok so you're 100% sure this time that he isn't your ex in disguise again?
He's hot, clean, can actually cook, and best of all isn't a narcissistic prick. I found a unicorn.
Ride that fucker.
This is the most exciting thing since movie theater hand jobs
Randomize
