if you made me into a cookie and threw me into a betty crocker easy bake oven on christmas morning...that's how baked i am
Fiestas. Its like a classier verson of mardi gras.
my phone is just a graveyard for last nights mistakes. at least it's giving me hints as to where i was though, i'm like carmen sandiego
you win again, gameday.
he was CRYING into my vagina
so apparently we got drunk enough at the reception to rip the center pieces apart and use the flower vases as "fancy glasses"
This is getting ridiculous. See/touch her boobs=good day. Not see/not touch her boobs=bad day. I am legitimately depressed over the lack of tits in my hands right now.
Well at least he stopped keeping track of money by bottles of McCormick.
I wonder when walk of shame thursdays in the rain will finally make me stop drinking.
My arms are still sore. Apparently, lube wrestling is the best workout ever.
Every single person in NY is either baking, drinking, or photographing their cat. Reporting live from Instagram.
Dont even get me started. you fell asleep in my kitchen after being cockblocked when you tried to use my roommates bedroom.
Nick's drunk off his ass and Kyle just Texted me and all he said was "butt pirates from space".
Obviously you're feeling a little sexually frustrated.
I consider humping a stranger every ten minutes when I walk in the street.
Guess who won a basket of sex toys in front of his parents, aunts, uncles, sister, and cousin...
Randomize