Job is the problem. Drinking, the solution.
Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
I wish I had more reasons to start sentences with the phrase, "Here's the thing you've got to remember about cougars ...
I really don't want to. I just don't know how to nicely say "dude I'm having a rough time in life right now and I just need to dress like a stripper cop, get shit faced, and have dirty crazy sex"
Why can't it ever be the normal ones that stalk me?
Dude, I had to stop mid fuck. Her cat was swatting at my balls as I did her from behind. I couldve lost something.
I need a Jamo leash. Just tie it to my wrist and every time you see me reaching for a shot of it, just yank my hand away
You need to call dibs on the blond with the tits. It's your birthday.
Haha hell yea
Because if someone gets to see those.. It should be you. It's like God telling you Happy Birthday.
I have bruises from doing the splits on the poles, if that doesn't scream bourbon street regret then I don't know what does
well considering the guy who just delivered my cookies had to console me as i had a mental breakdown in front of him i'd say i'm 4/10 right now, thank you
Just showed my drunk fiancé where I got circumcised, she's been crying for twenty minutes.
If all that ever happens between us is orgasms and dank memes, I think I'd be okay with that.
I'm eating a block of cheese like its a sandwich in the tsa line
we've never stayed at a party for more than an hour. we always end up at a pizzaria. by ourselves. with no friends.
what else are best friends for?
You ran up to my room. I was naked. You refused to leave without drugs. I love you.
Randomize
