I can count the number of hours she's been sober this weekend on one hand.
Someone apparently named 'eleaw' just text me asking if I had fun last night.
we are sitting in a kindergarden classroom alone chugging beer. look at our lives. look at our choices.
She literally got down on all fours and I swear did a 360 degrees head rotation exorcist barf...and then moaned IT WAS THE TACO BEEEELLLLLL
so no, not her best night
Then he claimed me as his prize for 3rd place in a wing eating contest. Too romantic.
you know it's a good party when the fucking floor caves in. THE FUCKING FLOOR.
Woke up the day after the party with a bruise on my stomach. Pretty sure my liver was trying to escape for fear of it's life.
If we had kids we couldn't come home, get high and watch porn together. And that's like the only reason I get up in the morning
it's like his dick is making a u-turn.
When you wake up, I have a unicorn coloring book, crayons, mini cupcakes, and booze.
Not as great as when your drunk mom grabbed my junk, but better than when your sober grandma sacktapped me and grabbed my butt.
Did we just second hand smoke crack?
What is it in my brain that makes me look at a penis and think "that belongs in my mouth"?
Oh, did your mom say anything else about my butt?
I need you to know I’m weirdly very sexually attracted to Charlie Puth now
Randomize
