My nipple is on Facebook.
I could make wine with my vomit
I've never been 12-exclamation-point-excited for sex. That must have been good.
I just found little boats floating in my bathtub....they are made out of white castle boxes, condoms, pickles, and corks. All the wine we bought is being used as the "ocean"....clearly we didn't drink any of the wine.....but I don't remember doing this.
I found her under my bed eating airplane pretzels.
If taco bell and midol can't fix her, she's in gods hands now.
There is a midget driving a powered tricycle around town. I am not drunk, stoned, or lying.
I'm literally beginning to think that my sex dreams are prophesies
DUDE FUCK CALL ME SHE HAS GRANDKIDS
Sorry I peed on your ottoman
Drink. Fuck. Waffle House. Repeat.
i'm sitting in bed scratching my boobs and wearing a sparkly fedora and have no one to blame but myself
He literally shoved the EMT, climbed in the back of the ambulance with his vodka and was like, "C'mon, people. Wrap this up. I got shit to do."
Everyone in Columbus is two degrees of separation from my vagina.
location: under the moon. please find me. need ride home.
Randomize
