Its not even 10am and we are talking about what guys assholes we would finger.
i'm drinking whiskey out of a ziplock bag in a movie theater. i'm THAT girl.
My stomach is revolting cause i have put food in it and no alcohol.
You leave me no choice. Your vagina is grounded. It can just sit there and think about what it's done.
He might not have any marketable talents, but the kid dry humps like no other.
I feel like if you're funneling natty lights on a Wednesday at 2:30pm at the apartment complex pool during finals week, you probably don't have your priorities straight.
But I'm a half a mile from my bed. And I have the hiccups. I hate hiccups.
You're talking about alcohol when the smell of hand sanitizer is too much for me right now
He and I are in a competition of who can sleep with the most people at work. We're tied at two. I could win this if they'd stop hiring damn straight girls.
I would say that that is the last time I ever drink a bottle of jack in two hours, but really who am I kidding?
I'm now consulting a magic eight ball on all major life decisions. On another note I think I have chlamydia.
So we hooked up and then instead of texting me, he endorsed me on LinkedIn for Microsoft Word a few days later
So i just remembered that thing i use to do with your butt because of shark week.
Somehow my family started talking about sex toys at breakfast.
How I know I've been single too long: I'm reveling in finding out my taken friends are being tragically dumped
Randomize
