Di me a solid and hit me with your car.
Home, forcing the cats to make out. Someone should get some.
I need you to stand in the corner and ref this threesome. Wear stripes.
If we worried less about pouring champagne down stripper crack, we probably wouldn't skip so many meals.
Find me a date. With a beard. I want him to rub his beard on my tits. I'm not even into that stuff but I think it'd be so warm.
Just cause I'm shitfaced wasted every night waking up in random beds all over Manhattan does not mean I'm a mess.
Truth. Respect the hustle.
I just made a cocktail. Had one shot of vodka left. It looked lonely so I decided to reunite it with its vodka friends in my bloodstream.
Starting the day at 1:44 in the afternoon. With a hot pocket and a mixer. Who knew my life had this kind of possibility.
That's true because who the fuck doesn't love Harry Potter and beer
you don't understand it took me an hour and a half to escape that bed, I had to memorize his sleeping patterns.
I impressed him by taking off my panties without removing my pants.
Also so weird my phone cracked after I repeatedly threw it at the ground as hard as possible
I need to stop adding people I want to bone on LinkedIn.
..... starting now
My neighbour just came round to ask why we posted a spatula through his door at 3am. What do I tell him??
You told your boyfriend he needed to fuck you in the tree because it would make you guys one with nature.
Did he?
Setting myself up for trouble? Yes. But getting laid is a lot more important at this time.
Randomize
