I have one thing to say: spongebath.
I wish that wasn't all you had to say. And by that, I mean I wish you hadn't said that at all.
Note to all middle aged "I totally let myself go after childbirth" frumpy mothers: I do not dress this way for your husbands. Stop looking at me like that. It's not my fault.
I just remembered I gave a homeless man a ride to his bridge last night.
an ex called crying about her current BF. convo ended in phone sex. i love emotional wrecks
My lack of memory is directly related to being friends with you.
Precisely. She's an awesome drinking companion; yet, not so awesome mother-in-law material.
Theres either a bag of coke in my pocket or a bag of anthrax, either way last night got way to serious
I think Vodka is my favorite. Everything else ties for second.
Imagine getting smashed in the dick by a basketball. A basketball made of metal. With spikes. That's pretty much what his dick looked like.
How am I supposed to be friends with him when there's an exact replica of his dick in my underwear drawer?
That girl definitely just ate a hot dog and stared straight in to my eyes.
Fuck you know you drunk when you start signing the Masson impossjvke song to entourage yourself to pee
We fucked. Had a political debate. I won. So I sat on his face.
Shit happens dude.
Shit doesn't just HAPPEN on the kitchen floor you asshole.
I may have passed out and puked all over the host's favorite couch, but three hours and a rip later, I was eating tiramisu in the bathtub with the birthday boy and a hot Italian.
Randomize
