The shirt is mine, the pants are mine, the bra not so much
i either got mauled last night by a velociraptor or an angry lipstick lesbian. could have been both
"Morning after" poops are always like, interesting.
All I remember is mattress sliding down the stairs while giving him a blow-job. Sorry you had to witness the incident.
It's one of those nights that you wish to god someone would booty call you, and then realize you'll just be stuck here with your poptart...
getting up at 8am to start drinking seemed like a much better idea before I had to wake up at 8am
I'm offering you baseball tickets and my vagina, isn't that enough?
I just want to be covered in whipped cream and spanked, is that too much to ask?
I'm trying to get WebMD to diagnose me with a hangover
Then years and years after that I will send you a picture of my warped vagina from all the kids that I had.
I suppose what I've learned from this experience is that sometimes you just have to make out with a narcissistic baby daddy to make a clean getaway.
AMERICA LOVES YOU. RIDE THAT DICK LIKE PAUL REVERE RODE HIS HORSE SO MANY YEARS AGO
You were yelling at the mannequin and saying "DON'T LOOK AT ME"
They were supposed to legalize it when there was a chance someone might actually propose to me. I'm appealing this bullshit.
Add tweezing eyebrows to the list of things not to do while on adderol....
Randomize
