I just had to take a drug test for my new job. I should have asked them if they could tell me if I were pregnant or not while they were at it and save me the guesswork.
My corndog is like a popsicle of bread. A WHOLE. POPSICLE. OF BREAD.
Wore last nights jeans to Christmas Dinner with the fam, found a half gram of blow, while they're praying ill be railing.
BURNT NIPPLES ARE UNHAPPY NIPPLES.
So I totally just used margarita salt for a body scrub.
No more. You can't have nice things, and vodka is a nice thing.
And the night ended with some random dude pissing on a car in a vain attempt to find a proper bathroom. We, the drunk, salute you, sir!
Listen I just pulled white girl hair out of my underwear. This has got to stop. I was wearing pants all night.
At this point, I'd date an ax murderer. So long as he doesn't cry all the time, have ED, or leave me with his unspayed cat. My list of requirements is becoming increasingly specific.
I don't think it counts as a booty call at 6:30 pm.
I just want him to make us coffee. And whack off into the sunset
The car smells like weed is an understatement.
Boys winking, cowboys tipping their hats, old people looking disappointed.... ah, I had forgotten the unholy powers of exposed cleavage!
You are my hero.
i just want to cuddle, make out and maybe have a boob grabbed but no. someone has to have mono.
I'm eating dinner with his parents and my phone goes "MOVE BITCH GET OUT THE WAY!" Thanks.
Randomize
