So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
bring money and cleavage
He did a line, told me my hair looked pretty against the background of the clouds, and then we fucked. Good afternoon
i don't think my dad can get all that mad since he got arrested for almost exactly the same thing last weekend
we found her in my closet eating a clove of garlic.
Typical Sunday afternoon purchase of condoms and a helium tank.
Clearly that person doesn't understand how efficient getting drunk and working out at the same time is.
Did i actually sleep there? Or did i just get sand everywhere?
Note to self: last nights makeup does NOT, under ANY circumstances, look good today.
I suggest absurd amounts of masturbation this weekend to build up the necessary calluses
I gave them the 'I used to fuck your son' discount.
I feel like the universe head butted me in my balls. That hungover.
.... My lady balls. Cuz I'm a lady.
The only people who will bring me pizza or tacos want a commitment and I'm hungry for food not their love.
What kind of paramedic is he, some dude is dying back there and he's trying to get laid
so an orgy is about to happen in the next room if you wondered where i am currently at in life
Randomize
