yeah well you didnt even puke from the alcohol. we cut you off and went to huck finn's and told you that the "irish cream" coffee creamers had baileys in it, so you shot down like eight of them and puked all over the floor. it was great. we cheered you on and everything
As it would turn out, "jesusssssss" is not the password to enter Faith Chapel's wifi network.
Is she bent over a couch yet or did daylight savings time throw off her usual schedule?
I just texted him to come over because I want to see if his hand fits the handprint bruise on my ass.....I feel like the cinderella of S&M
You never did explain why you were in wal-mart with a wok full of popcorn.
My lower body still feels like its been through a garbage disposal and a trash compactor. In that order.
I kind of learned that hotels are unnecessary. Boys will just take you home, but that's tough with a group. I believe in us, though.
He wouldn't let me leave his house until he made me orgasm once for every year I've been alive. The birthday sex song did not prepare me for this.
Trying to put a fitted sheet on drunk is one of the boss levels of slutty adulthood.
You're talking about alcohol when the smell of hand sanitizer is too much for me right now
I'm currently on an epic search all over the city for a drug store that isn't sold out of Plan B. I celebrated your birthday from afar.
Facebook: “Hey you fucked on a diving board, you should probably should wish him a happy birthday”
Waxing your own asshole is awkward and difficult at best.
To the woman who just heard me unscrew my flask in the Denny's women's bathroom at 10am: discretion isn't required but greatly appreciated.
Did you at least share?
if I start to respond to these political texts with a middle finger emoji - do you think they will get the hint?
Randomize
