i literally laid in bad for an hour last night thinking of what i'm going to name my cats when i become a cat lady.
I'm drinking early times at a fridays on wednesday night. This entire bar is going to see my dick by last call.
It smells like wine and fried chicken. Im confused and intrigued.
This whole foot fetish thing is getting out of control. He would rather hold my feet than me after we fuck.
So I have the professor convinced that the textbook will take another week to deliver. that should give me enough time to replace the cash i spent on strippers.
No flamethrowers. That is a direct order.
Why do I feel like the only way for this trip to end is alcohol poisoning?
I thought the cops would know I was on shrooms because I was 10ft tall.
We're not in high school anymore. I'm not going to pretend to be impressed as he butchers my favorite songs on his guitar. I just wanted to get laid.
Got my parents to pick me up from the party, take me to the bar and buy all my drinks, then drop me off at my booty calls house.
so today, i decided to say "fuck it" to mental stability, take a klonopin and wear a blanket toga. New Girl is on Netflix, nothing could go wrong.
I've gotten 2 singers numbers, a 6'5 dude has promised to take me to Oktoberfest, and I spent the night w a pilot named Zeus who looks like caramel tastes. Also I sprained my thumb punching some guy I named 'hater'. I love Nashville
The angle I tried to shoot a load on her face was unfortunate. I accidentally came on the David Bowie tribute she had out. Oddly, that made it more erotic.
His middle name is Julius so I named his penis Caesar and told him he has to say "Hail Caesar!" whenever he comes. He didn't seem to like the idea, though.
Remember the guy with the pretty voice that gave us crabs?
Randomize
