It's like, I'm the official vagina for that DJ group
I can always tell its time to do laundry when my vibrator doesn't stay covered up in my sock drawer.
And it just wouldn't be a Thursday night without me having to cuss out a foreigner. The streak continues.
I could've eaten a live cat and wouldn't remember it today. That level of drunk.
I left boob prints on the hood of his car. Something to remember me by.
I'm confused are we getting high or did someone actually die?
She asked the woman in the drive through to cover everything she ordered in mayonnaise, including here chilli cheese fries. Didn't happen. Then she started swerving at the car next to us screaming, asking if they had mayonnaise.
This chic sharing the cab with me just started givin me head. I'll be an extra 5 minutes.
I still have your make up all over the inside of my thighs from the face sitting. Free tonight?
Settled one third of the tab. Am going back for sex. Love you, make friends
apparently when she asked me how drunk I was on a scale of 1-10, I answered "bitch I'm fabulous" and tried to do a sassy hairflip. but I have short hair.
Hey know anyone who wants 58 lbs of whole frozen chickens for a couple bowls?
It's days like today that make me happy I'm not a porn star.
This weekend was amazing, 4 confirmed pukings, 2 cops, 3 hookers, one photographed t-bagging of the groom, and a night in an illegal gambling house.
will you help me invent vagina-safe pop rocks?
Randomize