On my arm I have 12 dashes, and below is written "plus 2 pretty stout whiskey drinks, so, you be the judge"
and i was just like oh shit i'm getting felt up by a 15 year old
Good lord, they've set up every firework to be ignited by a trail of gasoline at midnight. God save us all.
There's a bed on the roof. The window behind it is too small for it to go through. I'm impressed.
This tent reeks of fear and sangria
Well that's another check off the sexual bucketlist of things I never wanted to experience.
I feel like you're gonna be reading this at 6 AM in a ditch or under a bridge, but please remember...I offered to drive you home. And you said no.
The sad thing is that it's 6:45 and you're not far off.
He's still short.... And probably a douchebag. But if we ever run into him downtown I fully encourage you to take him home and have "I hate you douchebag" sex and lick every inch of that disgustingly toned chest.
Just in case the world ends tomorrow, I have an emergency contact group of booty calls I can send a quick "let's fuck" to before I die.
It's like we're in an emotionally distant three-way and there's not even sex to show for it.
i also remember watching someone vomit off a balcony which was kind of grim
I wish I could say this wasn't the first time I shit myself in a Piggly Wiggly.
If you dont get laid dressed as Woody Harrelson in Zombieland, I have lost all faith in the men of nw Indiana.
I don't think I can get drunk, high or horny enough to even consider that
you made the house rule that every time you'd say "yay" everyone had to drink.
that explains so much
Randomize
