It's just you. You wear the fuck me fedora and wear baller shorts, hollywood hippie who thinks she is shakira when she's drunk.
I can't believe you let me try to pierce your nipple with a dart last night
using my metrocard to split lines. it says optimism on the back. i am optimistic that you will appear at my door and help me finish all these drugs.
Packed at 6 am completely wasted. Damage assessment: 12 pairs of socks (no underwear), a flashlight, 3 shorts, shot glass, 8 sweaters, puff paint, one sneaker.
I couldn't remember if it was hamsters or Iraq that you hated. I'm so sorry.
she said if I bought her franzia she would blow me, and she would fuck me if I splurged on martini and rossi. Franzia it is
I swear to God, I just heard my guardian angel tell us to stop. I think we should listen.
True bitches know their best friends favorite Boones Farm flavor.
You take your time. Wallowing in last nights filth is the best way to get over a hangover
my biography would be titled "haunting truths and dick jokes: a tale of love, loss, and masturbation."
I don't need my coworkers thinking I'm a nutcase.
You gift wrapped a tampon.
I just googled "can they trace a vibrator back to you" so that' s how my life it going.
You squatted and peed on the living room floor while maintaining eye contact with Sebastian
I just mixed tangerine juice with sauv blanc. on an unrelated note, my episide of intervention is slated to run in April.
I’m calling dibs!
You can’t call dibs on dick. That’s free range dick. May the best vagina win!
Randomize
