Reggie can tackle my bush.
is it sad that i can describe this night as "the night that i was sober" and we all know which night it was. like literally one night of sobriety.
Its name is Richard. And I think he formally introduced us.
He was like a foghorn with a huge penis.
I used to be terrified of what was under your bed until I passed out there last night. Now it just feels like home.
When were you at my house?
Fuck you come back. The old guy next to me is complementing me on my great choice of ring fingers,
gymnastic barn sex. fuck i wish i hadn't blacked out
Drunk life lesson just learned the hard way: do not try to play hump the great dane. He may take you up on it.
He literally cocked blocked all the dudes that tried to talk to the girls he was with, and they all loved him.
Same guy who tossed the brunet over his shoulder as they left screaming "Bring me my lucky shovel!"
I need to get a job that holds me accountable for something. Otherwise I wake upon Monday wondering when the booze store opens and if I still have a boyfriend.
I'm trying to be celibate. I'm having me time. I'm eating cake.
My moms new boyfriend looks like Stu Pickles if he was in a biker gang. He gave me free coke though, so come party?
This whole pope visit thing is ruining me having sex.
Walking into my bedroom & smelling stale sex & disappointment isn't how I envisioned being 39, in case you were wondering.
There is an episode of "how it's made" on tv right now. The subject is tequila and water beds. Basically my life.
Randomize
