as evidence of my kitchen this morning my night involved alot of mustard and condoms
OMG THIS GUYS LICENSE PLATE IS GETTNHRWET
It's been over a month and I still can't find the bra I wore out on new years eve.
I'm scared. I feel like she's my mom and she just walked in on me having sex. Like she's "disappointed"
my credit card is covered in vodka and bad memories
There needs to be a newsfeed for phones... A list of all my drunken calls, texts, BBMs, new contacts, pictures sent AND received, all in chronological order.
I feel like I should come with a warning like "Orgasm free since 1983"
Off topic, but is it sad that Matthew and I are calculating how much sex we need to have in order to work off a taco bell burrito?
He called me at two in the morning to tell me he was throwing the tiny Thor hammer at moving vehicles. Apparently he missed the guy on the motorcycle.
What not to say at an interview: i can wrap the shit out of some food.
Jesus, you make out with one twin then sleep with the other and suddenly they don't want to play soccer with you... So sensitive...
He gives me the same feeling I get when someone puts a margarita or German chocolate cake in front of me
I feel like sleeping with foreign people is a long term investment. It's like a time share. Now when I go to London I have a place to stay.
You better have a raging boner when I get to your house and it better be worth missing work in the morning.
Well, fuck this election. I'm getting drunk, regardless of who wins.
Randomize
