so last night my mother drunkenly told me that maybe the reason why I want to be a vet was because I was conceived doggy style.
there should be a national holiday dedicated to how high i am
on a scale of 1-10how much freaking out is acceptable if you just found a (possibly used) cock ring in the head board that your parents gave you?
im covered in puffy paint and glitter i cant find kevin and im wearing shoes that dont belong to me....come get me please
His hands were made for my vagina.
You were pretty committed to that cat costume. Between pukes, you would meow and assure people that you just had a hairball you couldn't get out...
I dont think he stole the pillow. I mean if he wanted a souvenir, my thong was on the nightstand.
its not a holiday until ive ruined the family picture because im drunk
come over, blizzard of oz party. dress up.
Wash that dress asap. You laid down on the kitchen floor and tried to sweep the floor with your body.
If I were you I'd use my green card to do more coke and less talking
Finally another gay clarinet player. They're surprisingly rare.
You need to be full form and virile tomorrow so I can live vicariously through your rub and tug.
I'm not complaining, but why is it that every time I hang out with you I come home with random injuries and random girls?
the last thing is remember is that strange guy in the leotard...i woke up in my bed, naked, with a half eaten grilled cheese on my nightstand, a six pack in the fridge, a new pack of cigarettes on my pillow and coke in my purse. apparently i bought some drugs, shopped and cooked. typical.
Randomize
