I wanna come home
And do what?
Kiss. Rip clothes off. Repeat.
I'm telling lies about you to make you look like a good person
I envy your ability to put any word in front o the word beer and make drinking before 5 sound like a socially sanctioned event.
you got in your car and made the sounds of a NASCAR, then called me on your phone and I was your pit crew. then you apparently you won the race, and THAT'S when you tried to backflip off the top of your car.
We're playing Edward Bottle-of-eight-dollar-sale-wine-hands now
he is the anna nicole to my 90 year-old billionaire. i'm grateful that he's fucking me, so i'm buying him shit.
I don't even want to think about the kind of person who would shit in the street before 10pm on a Sunday.
I just saw a guy in a sombrero and holding an inflated blow-up doll in all her "glory" get escorted out of the mall. I hate Marley.
That's like being smoked out by a unicorn. If the opportunity presents itself you fucking do it and don't ask questions.
You don't have a wife, you don't have a dog, and you need a new bong. Don't make this any worse than that.
I literally just smashed open my grade school piggy bank for beer money. Goodbye childhood. Hellllllo coin night.
Kyle found me outside his apartment in the hallway. Said he didn't hear me knock bt smelled alcohol through the door. I'm sucha bitch to my liver
Walk of shaming into my apartment. No one to clap me in. Come home!
There are far too many naked dudes in your apartment, and they aren't even watching porn. I mean seriously, they've got the Lion King on.
Some nights you do cocaine till 5:00 in the morning, and the next night you teach yourself how to crochet. It’s called balance.
Randomize
