farters have to be the big spoon...
don't worry, i already broke the ice when i told the story about how i super glued a picture of big bird to my vag.
she woke up, said "please dont tell me your name, i dont want to remember it"
The worst part of it is that he's not the first man I've fucked with 2+ chihuahua's.
Bring more bourbon. Day drunk just hit another level.
I remember convincing the limo driver to smoke with us and if he did I would name my first son after him.
I was seriously concerned she had died since she wasn't moving at all, but then I asked here where she was last night and her response was to hip thrust the air.
She is currently expressing her joy for "bad to the bone" through interpretive dance...
I think we need to stage an Intervention. Her Instagram is a call for help.
Dude, don't put me in a suit and feed me liquor; I'll never go home.
can we just punch him in the dick and call it a victory for feminism
I just set an alarm for 5 am tomorrow morning titled "Wake and Bake Its Christmas motherfucker"
I'm actually kind of scared about the prospect of us living together. We're just going to eat pizza and drink wine before retiring to our rooms with vibrators
Nothing has ever been more true. Ever.
Birthday wine tasting got super shambly super quickly. I am covered in cuts/bruises/terrible life decisions.
Dude I had my dad cock block me once
Randomize
