worst hand job ever. my dick is about as raw as that sushi your mom wanted me to try.
I walked into his living room and saw him watching the play-offs while eating tomato paste out of the can with a bottle of wine. I'm telling you to stop talking to him. now.
There's a sign at Bashas for 30% off of 6 bottles of wine in Friday. That seems like a personal challenge.
and now there are teeth marks on my dick.
You're getting a blowjob this afternoon. This has been your morning public service announcement.
I'm soaked in champagne. I'm eating oatmeal from mcdonalds tonight was glorious
Even with having the shower running and music on everyone could hear the alcohol gods making me sacrifice my dignity and meals from the past week.
We're downstairs cleaning up and she turns to me with these big puppy dog eyes and says "Just so you know, I didn't have sex on your couch". You have to hug that.
I also witnessed that same parrot perched on the head of a man grinding with a girl.
Interesting. As a girl I don't know how okay I would be with that.
She seemed pretty into it.
You're a five foot adderall and caffeine fueled ball of sexual frustration and suppressed rage. It's only a matter of time before you snap. We're taking bets on when.
And my coffee table looks like something out of Scarface
I can get there in 20, one question, Drress Code? Stripper Lite (make up may require an additional 5-10 minutes), Suggestive Professor (professor Kamil's cleavage ain't got nothing on me), Daywear, Dyke (and trust me you ain't seen dyke), or Exactly What I'm Wearing Right Now. (all of the above may arrive under a coat and are subject to my level of sobriety. Which is currently like nonexistent).--xoxo you know you love me, Gossip Girl.
I will run into the sunset with a fist full of condoms.
You spent an hour sitting naked in your neighbor's Jeep Wrangler yelling in a terrible British accent about how you were "on a safari". Then you passed out on your lawn.
sober me needs to have more faith in drunk me.
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