I haven't worn deodorant in like three days and have been laying around in my underwear listening to music and drinking. I think i've made my own Bonnaroo in my apartment.
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
sexting on a treadmill. speed 9.0 beat that slut!
HE KEEPS WALKING AWAY. IT'S LIKE HE DOESN'T EVEN LIKE FRIES. WTF.
We hung out in the bathroom the whole time and talked about sex and watched some girl pee. If you don't believe I was there, check the bathtub for bread crust.
Just coerced a Santa to buy me a handle. Tis the season.
at least i was responsible enough to take off my shoe and throw up in it
the last thing i remember is yelling at the cab driver that i'm really good at drive by vomitting.
tell your freshman friends. will trade sexual favors for swipes. ive got dinner tomorrow open and lunch on wed
She looked at my cock with a kind of resigned disappointment.
We have a pile of chopped wood here that suggests we may have chopped down a tree of some sort.
There is a man playing a trumpet at this brunch and I hate life. Too hungover for this. Send help ASAP.
Do you hit a new low in life when you have to carry around a puke bag in your purse when you're hungover?
I'm going to sleep with this bank teller and I'm going to enjoy it, just try and stop me
He's got a british accent, a tounge ring, and he's wearing an eye patch... Of corse I'm fucking him
Randomize
