This guy sitting next to me just bought a plot of land off the internet. On a whim. In the middle of class
I dreamt Michael Jackson dropped his pants in front of me and I had to ignore it.
Let's just say there is a bloody hand print above my bed and it's not mine. Literally.
We took shots in honor of Shark Week.
Flying to Orlando on the 7th is cheaper than the 8th by like three margaritas.
Call me at 7:30 and make sure I'm not asleep in this booth at Waffle House.
There was blood everywhere. She was pretty good looking person though.
I never want to hear the words 'my therapist says . . . ' while naked again.
KETAMINE SUNDAYS ARE SERIOUSLY FUCKING ME UP!
She just laid there, sucking on a piece of steak, with the most content look on her face. Just before she passed out (steak still on her mouth) she said the cat box needed to be emptied
I've figured out why I love winter sex. Because I make them leave the beanie on, and we all know I love a man in a beanie.
By 11 pm the pants were off and there was no turning back. But on the bright side, you promised me your CDs when you died, you even signed a napkin saying so.
We bought only tequila and Twister. And you're STILL surprised you got pregnant?
Somehow she is more off limits now than when she was his girlfriend
So there we are, fucking beneath the Christmas tree and I glance up and see one of the local Jehovah's witnesses staring in horror through the decorative glass in the front door. I'm so proud of us.
Randomize
