We were so bored at work tonight that we were in dry storage taking turns pouring the boxed wine we use for cooking into each others' mouths. I think I'm starting to understand the "problem" aspect of "drinking problem."
I really like him. That's why I'm having sex with someone else, so he doesnt think i'm a slut.
similar to the time we made up the game of screaming at the top of our lungs any time a guy any of us slept with walked into the party. that went over SO well.
Three of the best words ever! Cocaine. Research. Study.
EVERYONE CAN HEAR YOU FUCKING YOU ARE IN A TENT
HOW LONG TILL THESE DRUGS WEAR OFF. I WORK IN ONE HOUR, I REPEAT, I WORK IN ONE HOUR.
You are like a vicious sex animal persistently seeking prey
I'm high. Everything has a 45° angle. That is as far as my eyes open
I feel like I should go door-to-door apologizing to America.
This is what happens when you leave: I get all vulnerable and I make out with the cowboy to shut him up about Jesus.
The Stanley Cup Final is killing me. I can't go to work drunk again.
I don't care what you say about him, his cock is the stuff dreams are made of.
He literally poured blue Gatorade on me after we had sex and said "good game" all over my white sheets
You probably shouldn't do that...but if you do take pictures
Been there. Done that. Still have his t-shirt.
Randomize
