this guy showed up at my house asking for his sword and cape. something tells me i shouldn't drink that much again.
I like that most of our conversations somehow end in us having sex for the good of our country
His dick looked like E.T.'s finger. It scared me.
I bought this skirt with every intention to have it wrapped around my tits by the end of the night. So, I'm not a whore. I'm a self-fulfilling prophecy.
I want him to rain dance my fallopian tubes.
I am a murderer. I ran over so many baby frogs. I wanted to stop and pick some up to take home, but all I have is a wine bottle. I'd hate to explain that to a cop.
so it turns out the huge bruises on my knees are from drunk bmxing and not getting railed from behind on the ground
and ill have you know that I only wiped out twice
I'd like to believe that in some alternate universe we are living this wonderful lesbian life together..
u kept repeating to itself "hot cheetos and nacho cheese sauce.."
My Sundays are fucking awful. Can't get a blow job.....can't get a win.
I think the highlight of my night is when I was eating a mayonnaise sandwich. drunk me was on point.
HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE A DRUNK WHEN ALL MY ENABLERS ARE BUSY?!
I can't have the last guy who touched my vagina be my coworker.
Remember, today is also the anniversary of Harambe's death. D**** out.
This is the most aggressive rendition of that Proclaimers song I ever heard.
Randomize
