My brain says no but my pants say off.
I was so drunk last night, I had to Wikipedia what i did.
just went back to the bar and asked if they found a shoe last night.
Mystery solved. Def had ice creme last night. There is a melted half eaten ice creme bar next to the bed. Which had melted onto my pillow. That explains why it was in my hair too. Im a fucking sherlock holmes over here.
Moral of the story is go have sex with a foreigner and report back to me.
They are taking turns pissing on the fire. This is my life.
I should have been on a postcard. I was sitting in the middle of the forest with a plate full of pot brownies and missing you.
There is no sno cone on earth better than alone naked time. Side note: text when you all are headed home.
It's accurate though. I am legitimately passionate about pickles. I crave pickles the same way I crave sex. It is a deep rooted animalistic need
The Stanley Cup Final is killing me. I can't go to work drunk again.
I'm supposed to be at work in 10 min, I just woke up and am 45 min away...tinder for the win
She's still mad at me for saying she looked pregnant and not getting her chicken nuggets.
I just called my grandma crying, apologizing for being the first grandchild to have premarital sex...I'm either about to start my period or pregnant.
Listen gotta draw the line somewhere. Apparently that line is at my nuts.
On a scale of one to ten how bad is it that the first cardio I've done in months is jogging to the bars?
I'll just go with dedication.
Randomize
