things it involved: vodka, boy parts, possible photos of me on a cell phone. things it did NOT involve last night: my bra, his pants, and sobriety.
he just spelled fiance, "pheancie". I dont think he's ready to get married.
It was like fucking a house. Down the chimney. That deep and empty.
I left a care package of Jack Daniel's, pancake mix and porn in your apartment. Merry fucking Christmas.
I've also decided that the true test of whether or not you should marry a girl is if she will willingly blow you while you eat Oreos.
I woke up and he used my makeup to write "hope you don't get pregnant" on my mirror before he left
This is what we do on Thursday nights. Spray tans, blunts and drawing pictures of cats.
What's sexier than showing up smelling like fast food cigarettes with a jar of moonshine in your hand
Damn it. If you ever throw me again, take video.
How ya feelin' champ?
Like a million bucks that was soaked in alcohol.
My autocorrect won't finish pterodactyl for me and I'm feeling personally attacked.
It's beautiful. It's what jesusxwants. I should send you a pic of my boobs out of friendship
I successfully cockblocked 5 people in one night. I wasnt getting any, why should they.
Our livers get a hall pass for 2020, right?
That confirms what we've all known all along. I'm a bad gay. I have no fashion sense.
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