If I could text you the sound of me vomming, I would.
I guess what I'm trying to say is you've fucked more people than the economy.
So I'm really hungover walking to work and these douches from comcast on bikes ask if they can take a picture with me to show that they're doing their job. The picture: me, this chick from comcast, i'm holding a 2 ft. pixie stick, a comcast flyer and i'm puking in the parking lot. sounds like their doing a good job!
period poops. best. ever.
omigod im sitting here with ben and he and i both got that...chick you totally just mass texted that...
the general consensus of people in the room is that i should have another bottle of wine.
"people in the room" being me.
I kind of drew a blank when the doctor asked me how I got super glue up my nose.
I think my hopes are too high for this one. The only other bachelorette party I've been to I was felt up by a Chippendale's dancer and smoked a joint with the party bus driver.
I just woke up entirely naked on top of a pile of some guy's laundry on his bedroom floor.
It's like shitshowville, population: those girls.
Am I really in your phone as Asshole Jesus??
wait can you just like go into detail with this penis touching thing? like was it a hand job or was it like a day at the petting zoo or something
He's my favorite late night booty call. He lives next to a Wendy's.
I will go to bed dreaming of sexy Olympians carting me on a throne to the beach where they feed me pizza and champaign and massage my head/wash it like the hair dresser does.
I cannot take an uber back in my costume...can you please come get me?
Apparently last night I was doing back bends for the guy making my easy mac because clearly it wasn't easy enough for me.
Randomize
