I knocked on some strangers door, you didn't have to give me a fake hotel room number
I want to dip my vagina in sugar. Not only will it be sweet, but it will have a nice sparkle.
I'm not really sure how I got home, but judging by this headache, i'm assuming it involved bourbon.
How dare you send me a picture after midnight that isn't porn. You know the rules.
drunk tastebuds have low standards.
In all seriousness, if tomorrow night becomes a heated game of Which Ex Gets To Take The Plastered Birthday Girl Home, I'm going to bow out with my integrity intact.
Reached a new low. Drinking Wine from my thermos while on the stair master.
Discovered a freckle on my clitoris. What have you done today?
You sat on a wall pretending to be a gargoyle before shouting "batman!" and jumping at me
I'm the drunk Des Moines deserves, but not the one it needs
At this point, I'd date an ax murderer. So long as he doesn't cry all the time, have ED, or leave me with his unspayed cat. My list of requirements is becoming increasingly specific.
You're the second person to offer to fuck me in the bathroom at work. Idk whether I should feel honored, or if cvs is just a turn on.
You keep talking about hotdogs and yelling "COME ON DOWN, LET ME SEE WHAT YOU'RE WEARING"
It's all fun and games until you have to pay the bar tab.
I love it when strippers help me get other strippers numbers.
I miss my innocence.
I miss being able to say, "I've never done this before."
Randomize
