its a saturday night. im home alone watching legally blonde, eating week old birthday cake and drinking milk out of the carton. so yeah im doing real well
just customized my debit card w a pic of me ralphing over the toilet. figure it'll give the bar keep a good cut off est and for shits n giggles when buying my handles at the liqour store
working out is totally making me break out.. i'm doomed to forever be either a butterface or a butterbod. there is no way out.
The cardboard box in my backseat wasn't strong enough to keep your pee contained. Come clean my car.
No, that was the night I was sneezing out barf
You're alright. You just passed out while we were having sex. Then I'm pretty sure you peed. So I went home.
It's called hot rabbit the party if he asks the password is "careful" don't ask
Things are coming back to me in chunks. I vaguely remember signing a shirt that said 'I enjoy vagina'
I AM SO PROUD OF YOU
He woke me up, handed me a ringing phone and said break up w her for me. That hung over.
I feel as if I need Plan B just being in the same room as them for more than 5 minutes.
Guess who's the proud owner of her very own foxtail butt plug!!
Well now you know my birthday fantasy: gangbang consisting of men wearing NPR pledge t-shirts.
All because of that GODDAMNED MIKE PENCE.
My sex life is driven by spite and alcohol
on a campus of 30,000 people, i should not be able to see every single guy I've ever hooked up with at one party.
Randomize
