Best look from Detroit today: running across the street with your buttcheeks on display carrying a 40 oz. Or maybe being crazy-pregnant and screaming and slamming a pay phone. Toss up.
her orgasm sounded like a fucking walrus crying.
I just got cut off for correcting the bartender's grammar. I should have never accepted that fucking editors position.
My head weighs 7 pounds. i know this because i spent the majority of the night passed out in the bathroom, using the scale as a pillow.
riding the spinning bikes at the rec after Valentines Day was a baaddddd idea
i'm traumatized. his orgasm face consisted of him looking like my dead grandfather and burping.
Is it hot in here? Is the room moving? Its moving. The room is moving. Its spinning like a top. Have you ever been covered in puke? What are you doing?
I never woulda thought that back in kindergarten playong kickball that'd i'd be 24 getting plastered in front of the white house and winning a kickball championship in a young adult drinking league
if the furniture in my bedroom wasn't shape shifting... this would be a different story.
He must have found my secret supply of blow and took a bump before we left the house. Rude.
He could of at least asked
I never thought wine and chicken nuggets would end up being a thing that I did, but here we are
Who doesnt want to be Yoda? I mean seriously, how sweet would that be? Live to 400, not give a shit about love and all that, know fucking mind tricks and smoke awesome swamp weed. I'm down.
I have commenced my lesbian college experimentation. Wish me luck
Omg my brain. Most recent thought: I fucking prayed in the bathroom that the other girl would leave. Prayed to Jesus
I woke up to find I still had sequins under my tits. I'd say Sunday was a success.
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