So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
He's sitting on the floor holding his bracket and crying, literally crying... he just keeps saying "Kansas how could you?" over and over
was it you or me who tried to make the, what appears to be, nacho cake in the oven?
I sent him a picture of my boobs instead of saying good morning. I'm trying to tell him how I feel in a language he'll understand.
Nothing with ever convince me that she wasnt purposely left behind by our mother to ruin my life and fuck our family
Just took a piss in some random bushes in a traffic jam and had to sprint back to the car. I'm a boss.
Can't trust a bar that doesn't have fireball
There's not really an emoticon that says "I'm sorry I honked your boobs, and that you weren't a fan of that."
Excuse me while I gouge out my eyes.
In which case my work here is done.
My one night stand ended up seeing me the next morning... For my interview. Guess who got a job.
I just sold Adderall to a priest, im not quite sure how I feel about this situation
All right well I’m making her sugar cookies and sleeping with her husband tonight. Just another manic Monday
Fuuuuuck dude, he’s got #Excel in his Facebook bio; I’m screaming
I'm not too sure what happened last night, but by the looks of it, we must have gotten drunk with zebras.
I feel like a dancer trapped in the body of a math instructor. Love, Mom
Randomize
