I tried to pay my bar tab with my gym membership card. Twice.
god damn woman. you are like the herpes of drunk texting. you never go away.
then you put baby powder on the bottom of your feet and walked to your room so "ladies would follow the footprints"
I feel like a fucking princess. Like an heiress of a kingdom of drugs.
We officially wrote our house rules 1. We do not waste alcohol 2. Pinky promises mean something 3. Don't leave your facebook open, and if you do, don't complain 4. Never refuse cuddle or catch phrase
Tonight was the second time that I've pretended like English was my 2nd language to avoid conversation w a creeper.
The money is just too good to quit doing it. I'm using the same justification strippers use.
My god. His mom just smacked my ass. Does this mean I'm accepted??
We still on for coffee?
Cream and sugar. Deliver to planned parenthood in 45.
He blacked out at the first bar and passed out at the second...we just carried him to bar three and four and sat him in the lounge chairs, he said we're amazing
Drinking and pointing where stuff needs to go is hard stuff.
She was totally amazed that i had the pizza delivery timed to coincide with our nooner and that the delivery boy knew where the broom closet on the 3rd floor was.
I'm sure the lady doing my pedicure could smell the sex on me.
EX BOYFRIEND'S TWINS WERE BORN TODAY. THIS CALLS FOR A MARG.
He can kiss the multicultural 3 some goodbye
Randomize
