were with a gay guy with a minnesota accent. think about how funny that sounds.
shhh. i hid the ranch dip behind the rooster. don't tell anyone that way you can find it in the morning and it won't be all eaten.
wrong number but thanks
i wish i could swallow nair and shit it out and it would get rid of all my ass hair.
jess passed out on the pong table. it was depressing until we started singing shania twain an hour later and heard her muffled voice singing along.
I'm finding that as the end of the quarter approaches, the list of things I refuse to do sober keeps getting longer.
But fine, we can play that game. You can come over and we can have totally platonic, long, boring discussions. Or we can fuck. Whatever.
What started as a "classy" double date ended with Jeremy and I tripping our balls off and talking to the refrigerator while the girls cried on the couch and questioned where their lives were heading.
His phone pocket dialed me while he was crapping. He was quietly singing stayin alive and possibly passing his intestines.
Damn, well, it could always be worse
For sure, I could be a prison bitch right now. Thursdays aren't half bad
Now I'm ashamed that I wore a bra
I just remember yelling "BODY SHOTS BODY SHOTS BODY SHOTS" while I was streaking
One door closes, one man cooks for you through the next open door
ugh i want to get waxed but I’m afraid. my vagina has had enough trauma this week, i don’t know if I can put her thru any more.
I sent him home with blood on his fingers and shame in his heart.
I get sad thinking about all the sex I’m missing out on because of the virus
I instituted “quarantine and chill” months ago. It’s not like penises go soft just because they’re working at home.
Randomize
