My mom just drunkenly told me i was conceived in the back of a car, at a Bon Jovi concert.
So, I just sold my textbook to have money for Plan B.
I might scale it back and go as an investment banker. Which is the exact same costume as James Bond on LSD. I just introduce myself differently.
I don't want to talk. I just want to motorboat those tits
I gotta find new tactics tho. There's just so many tied up dicks one can look at before part of your soul dies.
So neither of us had a dollar bill and we couldnt find a straw so we spent all nite doing coke through penne pasta
I can HEAR him staring at your boobs.
Because its Monday... And I'm determined to just be drunk for the rest of the semester
I'm not pregnant. Security came before he could.
I bought new panties to console myself ... you know, because I am going to lose my ovaries. Well, if I don't die of a heart attack first. But at least when the EMS folks find me, I'll be finely dressed from the waist down.
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.
if becoming an adult is chugging a bottle of wine in your bed and crying about your stresses while your dog watches you, sign me up
I spent the entire party sexting people's significant others for them because they were too drunk to do it themselves. I did quite well too. I should start a business
And then you two got up and shouted in near perfect unison "I'M ALWAYS A SLUT FOR BASKIN ROBBINS" The bar just looked at us horrified.
Do not tell me I cant do drunk math ever again, AND I made a creative way of telling him I want him to fuck me.
Randomize
