halloween makes it hard to decipher real cops... from sexy men dressed up as them.
there is a baby dancing on the table amidst the smoke of multiple cigarettes. i want to trade lives with that baby.
I don't think I can handle being a slut. There is a lot more emotional stress that I never realized.
If I am going to pay someone to make me puke, it's going to be the bartender.
He handled me like a finger puppet on crack... Time to ice the vagina, I'd like to sit down sometime today.
Apparently I told the girl smoking was terrible for her, and then requested it in my mouth.
It got messy; I did a shot of seamonkeys.
The strip clubs here are like a safari of penis, and I'm gonna bag me a rhino.
So the next three days will be henceforth known as the 'celebration of the end of the most irresponsible years of my life' be prepared to wake up naked in a ditch.
I vaguely remember hanging my bra off the ceiling fan and chugging a beer during sex
College has turned you into quite the multi tasker huh?
I'm counting my small victories this morning. For instance, I haven't puked at work yet.
My life is literally "I'm too horny you can't leave" or "let's have pie" there's like no inbetween
he won't tell me his last name, but I know his garage key code
I'm making a will, in it I'm leaving you my skull.
He bought me a bottle of Malibu. I think I could love this guy.
I've loved people for a lot less.
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