addddeeerrraaaallll.
ok i'm not sure if that was a success statement or a cry for help.
I told her the white crusty stuff on my boxers was frosting not cum. She seemed MORE grossed out then
He told me he was a psychology major, and I responded by asking him where he hid his vagina.
she worked me into her spring break cardio plan. im mondays and wednesdays.
We are smoking a hash blunt ... Bring your emergency inhaler
It was awkward at first he now knows I fucked his little brother, they were both there. then the tequila kicked in and everything was fine.
I was expecting it to be of the "I am your vagina's reckoning" caliber.
Tried to make hash outta one of those keurig machines. I don't know why. Maybe the drunkenness, but now I have mushy bud and no ganja
my last search of the night was "the physics of green eggs and ham" what the fuck
painting my nails while super high-drunk. Ended up painting my entire hands. Both.
I hate ovaries. They're horrible little sacs of satanic enmity.
That's the most poetic description of female anatomy I've ever heard.
You can't Tinder AND have him bring you icecream in the same night. It messes with your vagina.
I definitely don't remember licking the drag queens boob.
Why do I feel like I need to drink to feel better about the things I do when I'm drunk
In this house, we have but one simple rule: DONT FUCKIN TOUCH MY STUFF OR I'LL CUT YOUR NECK IN UR SLEEP
Randomize