This frat boy drinking a forty and wearing a pussy patrol shirt just ran out in front of my car. I should have used less brakes.
I hid a girl's boot last night so I could ransom it back this morning via the "blowjobs for boots" program.
He told me he breastfed 'til he was six. That explains the obsession with me getting fake tits. Is it a red flag?
Seriously, I was a high class hooker. I was snorting shit Rachel, white powder, lines formed with credit cards, the dudes house was beautiful. Magnum condom. Adorable puppy dog. Pretty sure at some point I was sleeping on a washing machine. Boxing Gloves.
Those were the highlights of my night.
I got home and laid by the toilet and then alexa laid in the bathtub and sang the preamble while kayla held my hair
I walked in her room to find her rubbing lotion on her face high as fuck.
Was it just me or did you also find it awkward when "glad you came" started playing on pandora right after you finished?
I think I broke my hip playing drunk ping pong
this night just went from meh to biblical thanks to drunk naked yahtzee
There's like a dolphin trainer convention here or something. I will parlay this trip to Vegas into riding Shamu if its the last thing I do.
So many weird people in this class. I can practically taste their unwanted virginities. They taste bad.
We did it to 80's cardio music. Talk about a workout.
Just bought a gingerbread house kit and pregnancy tests. Happy holidays.
You told his date she had the tits to be a stripper and the personality to be the pole. Of course he's pissed off.
The modern romantic, surprising his gf w/ a gram of blow
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