in case you havent found it already in honor of Toy story 3 we wrote ANDY on the bottom of your foot while you were passed out on the couch.
I don't think I own any pants that haven't seen his bedroom floor anymore...
Im making gravy in a lace bra and jeans. Just call me the southwern wet dream
So hungover. I'm getting too old for trolloping around in disco shorts going shot for shot with well behaved underclassmen in an effort to lure them to the dark side of alcoholism and liver failure.
I confess. I just downed the bottle of saki. And I'm singing phantom of the opera to the dogs. Be glad you're not here for the high notes.
According to facebook, I opened up a can of whupass on some douche who poured all the vodka on the ground.
You called the wrong number but I salute you.
Just bought shock top, Trojans, double shots and baby oil. At 8 am. While the lady in front of me bitched about her expired coupons.
I asked him to make me two boxes of macaroni and cheese. That's like eight servings. How did I think that was an okay amount.
She bit my shoulder during foreplay last night, and it's already infected. I think she has rabies.
I'll like his pictures on Instagram every once and a while so that when he sees my name he is reminded of the best blow job he's ever gotten.
I just came rly close to telling a dude that I want to chew on him and there should be an oil painting of his ass up in the louvre before I realized that isn't how flirting is supposed to go
How do I explain to work that I woke up in my underwear on a trampoline and that I'm not coming in?
Typical Sunday morning text...are you alive?
ill give you some hints: blood, carnival, fog machine, happy meal.
That's just how I roll. I drink, then tell people I'm either not wearing underwear or I'm training to be a stripper.
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