Definitely locked eyes with the stripper who gave me a lapdance last night as she walked by me and into the Ann Taylor Loft in Times Square.
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
I knocked myself out momentarily last night when I fell and hit my head off of my jewelry box while trying to take his pants off... while he was passed out.
God I hope my hair dresser doesn't realize that all these hairspiration pictures are from gay porn blogs on tumblr.
He stopped responding after the animal pictures... I do this EVERY TIME.
He walked straight into the wall, said "excuse me ma'am" and continued back to his dorm room.
We laughed. We cried. We came everywhere.
Planning a foam party. Swimsuits are mandatory, and please no granny suits. If you wear a granny suit I will stick you in the corner and put a cone hat on your head.
If a girl called me a promiscuous philandering Casanova, should I say thank you?
Most definitely.
The only thing that got rode last night was the shit face train. I brought him home to see wht all the hype was about and he just started crying and puking in my bathroom.
He just kept mumbling that he was too drunk for society and then he peed in a bush
you got drunk, told him he looked like shaggy and said 'I wouldn't show you my mystery machine for all the scooby snacks in the world'
I found a hair colour I want in a porn.
You left me with 12 red bulls and a bottle of vodka. What did you expect?
just threw up in a gas staton parking lot in front of a father and son. stared them in the eyes and finished like a boss
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