On the way home from Florida I threw up at the beginning border and ending border of 6 states. You win this year Spring Break.
Just opened a beer with eyelash curlers... miss you.
I opened my door to go to class and all there was was a raccoon puking on the doorstep. In hindsight, it was a very accurate omen.
That's because you're a slut. A slut fucking a fence.
Wearing scrubs to buy plan b so I look like I have my life together.
I wish i could just live off of margaritas and good sex.
I'm 50% okay with that amount of body contact... plus/minus 7% based on where blood may flow.
Only you would have a vasectomy while you're awake and report on the soundtrack first
He wants me to tell you "my boner misses you"
He got you flowers. How bad can the sex really be?
I feel like too many of my sentences start of with "Hey, fuckface!"
It's a sad night when one of your friend texts you that she's going on a date with someone you know and then invites you to maybe have a drink after
I need something that says "I'm gay sometimes but I feel scorned by my straight, non-committal lover, so I'm here to get drunk and make out, and possibly end up in a bathroom with someone who's name I won't remember tomorrow"
I'm going to target high, just in case I ask you where my paycheck went later
I can't say too many people would say watching their drunk best friends fuck in a hot tub is very normal.
Randomize
