Nobody needs to come anywhere. Except on your face.
Any day that starts with a call from my ex-bf... crying... is a good day.
Silently passing ghastly beer farts as I move around the bridal department at Tiffany's. Call it my contribution to the holiday spirit.
He just refered to Steak and Shake as "a good place for couples". I will definitely not be shacking tonight.
Just looking for some anal play. An attempting to read atonement. The highbrow/lowbrow divide is striking.
...She just said, "We've been blessed with good drugs lately."
She was giving me a handjob while I was wearing a sombrero with a beer in one hand and a hammer in the other.
She is a social worker. An actual good person trying to save the world. I feel like every time I give her an orgasm God wipes a little smudge off of my shit list.
The forecast for tonight is alcohol and low expectations.
You're the only meteorologist I listen to.
If throwing a bottle across the bar, hitting a skank in the head and not getting caught was an Olympic event, you'd bring merica the gold every time
I have bruises from doing the splits on the poles, if that doesn't scream bourbon street regret then I don't know what does
I made out with a guy because he ate a grape lollipop and he tasted delicious... not my proudest moment.
I think he knows I took a picture of him. Why I don't get punched in the face more often is anyone's guess.
I’d feel the same about religion. We can talk about it, but I want you to go down on me first
All I can remember from last night was eating nutella and touching myself to Weird Science.
Randomize
