I look like a sausage in jean shorts, you should have woken up earlier and approved my outfit.
I'm at the laundry mat. This guy is here showing me his ankle monitor. The weird ones always find me.
about to play the homeward bound drinking game. alone. what are you doing tonight?
On a scale of "impaired judgement" to "Mel Gibson," how drunk are you?
Toaster
I hope he's okay, but I also hope he shows up with an eyepatch
I was too drunk to read the menu, let alone her body language.
The bartender laughed but the manager kicked me out when the mom conplained. There's no way my fart harmed that baby in any way
After the Patriots lost I punched him in the face. But I still feel like that isn't a good reason to dump me.
You gotta hand it to him. 6 hours in a new town and he's already fuck someone, had his ass kick by her bf, and rounded up a posse of people to kick this guys ass.
Confirm that you received these messages so that I know you feel the agony of my vagina. There is such a thing as "too many penises".
Using all my books as packing buffer for my liquor bottles. And you said being an English major was worthless.
I rewarded myself with Taco Bell tonight for going a full week without punching my roommates in the face or wishing bodily harm on them.
Fuck twitter. Fuck men. Fuck bras. Fuck flip flops. Fuck makeup. Fuck perfume.
You are, as of last night, the self declared king of pooping. Long may you reign.
Call me Sherlock Holmes, bitch.
Randomize
