Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
So when we opened his headboard we found a bottle of crisco sitting on top of his porn magazines.
I guess we all know what he was cookin.
if you can see her tanning goggle line that's officially a deal breaker
So, halfway through sex he stops and starts crying. He said he's worried god hates him for all his bad decisions...think he meant to imply I was one of them...
Today's face brought to you by last night's make-up.
The Fresno prostitute seemed offended all I wanted from her was directions back to the freeway.
it took me 7 solid minutes to realize "egggGSaucetingf" meant "exhausting"
Things you owe me: a sober apology, $12, the removal of bbq sauce from my doorknob
Just pretend you're riding a unicorn through space. Thats how I deal with the stirrup situation at the gyno office.
I'm watching sex and the city with my wine and Wendy's. I'm not sure if this is single woman empowerment or not.
This was like angel cum on the bread of life filled with the nectar of the gods
i actually texted him "nice to see you" but then there was a saved draft "i think about you when i get off." dodged that bullet...
I shouldn't have that kind of responsibility when the prospect of being high is readily available. All I could do was hula hoop and smoke cigarettes last night. My remembrance of anything important was out the window.
I wish I had a tail.
Why?
...why not?
This is either going to be a hilarious catfish or the fuck trophy of the century.
Randomize
