Theres a handprint of sauce on my frig, one streaked across my face, a trail of it to my bedroom and sauce all in my bed and i have no idea what the fuck i ate.
I know it I should, but it's kinda nice. It's smells like unbridled enthusiasm and copious amounts of melt your face off sex.
I have a diplomatic trade for you. My pants for your rum. Tomorrow?
In case you're wondering where my head is at right now, it's wishing that I was getting laid and not having a debate about cheese.
That guy is like a clown car of sexy. Just when I think I've seen it all, THERE'S MORE.
AND SOME IN THE TRUNK.
We were hunting our best friend with a BB gun in the backyard. I'd say the vaporizer was a worthy investment at this point.
Haha ohman remember when I peed in your blender? Gotta love college.
YOU DID WHAT???
I just googled "can they trace a vibrator back to you" so that' s how my life it going.
There's no button for "gave my boyfriend's cock to a friend" on my intimacy calendar.
Uhm I have a bottle of tequila, a gallon of orange juice, and leggings. Now ask me again how hard im going? And that doesn't cover tomorrow.
I was cock-blocked by a swat team last night.
I just fanned myself with my wet toothbrush to dry my mascara. Wtf
Look fucker, my sensibility and attention to detail is the ONLY REASON you're not dead now
And then I woke you by humping you to Lionel Ritchie.
Dude, you screamed I AM THE WALRUS while giving a statue of Ronald McCdonald a lapdance. You were NOT sober.
Randomize
