is your mom at the bar?
she's in the bathroom. spitting in the trashcan. not throwing up. just spitting and singing bad romance by lady gaga.
thatta girl
the only human I can compare her to is rosie o'donnell.
All I know is that it's pretty damn mean to put a glass wall in a bar.
Just walked in and was handcuffed to a police woman. Fire fighter woman poured franzia down my throat. Aaaaand I just ate cookies off of Little Red Riding Hood's tits.
I don't know what's worse: going to the liquor store at 9am or knowing that its open at 9am
omg i met someone at the bar who sells hair feathers. that are long. saved in my phone as "haiirs deather"
On an unrelated side note: I shall now attempt to crawl to the bathroom. Where I will lay motionless on the cold ceramic bathtub with hot water pouring over my shivering body as I desperately try not to vomit. Good day.
All I know is you walked out of the kitchen in some kind of French onion dip bra and started passing out individual chips to guys saying " do you dip?"
She proposed we share a dildo. Hopefully she was joking.
I can't believe you didn't come out. There was a duckling ON THE BAR!
Honestly, I want an afternoon of mild abuse, mixed with face fucking and general molestation that turns in love making, laughter and cinnamon toast crunch naked in bed.
we panicked because we couldn't find you anywhere, but then we found you tripping in the bathtub with Marie's cat. there was no water. you thought there was water, though.
No joke. There's a picture of the priest I made out with on my parents' refrigerator.
He told us a story about a time his 80 year old uncle karate chopped a dick in a glory hole.
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