just put cider in my bong. gotta love fall
The night was doomed the minute I started taking shots with an apple as a chaser.
All we did was argue about ponys and drug dealers
He just kept pointing to each of us saying "arrested, arrested, arrested"
I already wrote the apology to my liver. He knows whats up
She said just put your tongue in there and don't linger. I have other things to do.
I'm at the bar alone. Is this how you feel?
Apparently getting drunk at a philanthropy event and tweeting about it is "frowned up"
He's practically not my boyfriend anymore. So let's go get some glitter, balloons, alcohol and forget this night ever happened.
You don't understand. There's baclava and there's post sex baclava. You can't compare the two.
He was so aggressive it felt like he was giving my boob a root cannal
His encouragement of my recreational drug use is the backbone of our nonrelationship. That, and rough animal sex and loud music.
The cup holder in my recliner holds a whole bottle of wine. That's definitely a sign.
I never want to even look at fireball again because it reminds me of the night I died and then lived to tell the tale of how I died.
I'm not gonna lie. I need sex like plants need water right now. I just need the dick.
Randomize
