Hello, balls-out mistake. It's been a while.
I tried to go shot for shot with some guy called "shit show martinez"
I wanted to dispute a few 411 charges on my phone bill. The service rep told me I called them four times asking for Lady Gaga's number.
Also, our mothers are placing bets on which of us will get pregnant first.
I have a beer in one hand and a slim fast in another. It's another one of those wednesday nights.
She asked the taxi driver to stop at the Texaco because she had to puke. She did then stumbled into the gas station and bought a 40.
The sex I just had was not worth missing a girls night out.
I wish they made people sized litter boxes.
All three roommates are gay and in women's studies. Ive already been informed that all penetration is rape. This is not the college experience I signed up for.
Fuckin wine wasted last night. Found my pants in the toilet this morning.
In that state of mind I managed to bounce back from getting hit by a golf cart and convince an investigations officer that I was okay to go into the game.
My favorite part of you downing a fifth of fireball in my apartment by yourself is the shot glass in the sink. It's like you attempted moderation and were just like "Fuck this."
I hear my roommate snoring and I feel bad for his girlfriend but then I hear them having sex and I guess it all works out in the end.
I'm at the fucking ritz Carlton and I would leave here to cuddle with her. Not even fuck, just cuddle. What th hell is wrong with me?
I think it's called love, bro
I'm totes in the mood to go home and like blindly inhale dangerous amounts of porn
Randomize
