I woke up this morning with "guy in polar bear j.crew boxers" written on my stomach along with a 5 digit phone number...
I drank myself into bisexuality again.
He was carrying a rolled up carpet saying he was saving it for tomorrow's Walk of Fame.
Just because you put plan b in my Easter basket doesn't give you an excuse not to wear a condom.
Wait wait wait. I remember riding in her car to the next bar. On your lap. With my head on the dashboard. That probably should have been my cut off point.
After a certain point, you just want to make it work. Prove to yourself that you're smarter than the vibrator.
fun fact: in my eskimo family tree i am the only brunette
I started having a bad trip because I closed my eyes and got lost in a forest of patterns and I knew my mom would be upset.
She just walked up to him and was like "you should fuck Angela" and it worked! She is the ultimate wingman
This guy has a theme song for the joints he rolls
Now accepting any stories about my adventures last night, in particular why my knuckles are bleeding.
I mean, except for the part where I was vomiting up pineapple and hot sauce, it was a really fun time.
I just had sex on my divorce papers. I've never felt so poetic.
I have a bunch of bug bites on my ass... This is why you don't have sex against a tree in the woods
THERE ARE LEGITLY 4 SEPARATE BITE MARKS ON MY DICK. WHAT. THE. FUCK.
Legitimately*
Go fuck yourself
Randomize
