Uggggg i want to leave and get bombed over baghdad
I'm actually pretty neutral about a lot of things. I'm like Switzerland with a penis.
I wish i had a shirt that said, "I know what you're thinking and it's not herpes on my face"
I love you and want you to know that you're the best friend ever and me lassoing you with a seatbelt was out of sheer affection.
We got a Christmas tree, decorated it to surprise his wife And kids who were out of town for her father's funeral, then fucked like rabbits on their new mattress before he had to pick them up at the airport.
I'm finding that as the end of the quarter approaches, the list of things I refuse to do sober keeps getting longer.
In order of importance: Where am I? Where's my car? Where are my clothes? Who is this chick in the room?
Anne's couch, the bar, your car, Anne.
Well, I plan on starting the night dressed as little red riding hood. Then I plan on finishing the night dressed as a shit show in a red cape.
red lips, whiskey sips, shaking hips, nipple slips. my life as a rap song.
I want to get business cards and hand them to hot guys and say " hey if you ever want to like makeout and pretend it never happened call me"
"I played a game called "how drunk can you get in a minute" last night. How was your Thursday?"
Is it sacrilegious to take tequila shots on Saint Patrick's day?
ETA 20 minutes and if you greet me at the door with a gin & tonic I’ll give you head.
party at the soccer house. crumbs in my sexy panties. can't. put. pieces. together.
He wanted me to do the rubix cube. He thought it was hot.
Randomize
