Tell me why I go to the dollar store for nail polish remover and a ghetto black dude trys to hit on me in the parking lot, then he gets in line behind me with a dousche bag literally and that is his only purchase.
I don't know if it's her mysterious past or atrocious grammar, but I think I'm in love.
I just got wrote up for "repeatedly smelling like alcohol"
That was long passed due.
There was a sweat stain in the shape of a fast chick with low standard on your bathroom floor
Also I'm very proud of th fact that I walked my dog before bed. Drunk dog walking should be an Olympic sport; it takes SKILLS.
He needs a high five right to the fucking mouth. With a chair. Or an atomic bomb.
He's like the unplanned child of drunkenness
So I stappled myself into my toga... that should be interesting getting out of later tonight...
What kind of costume was that supposed to be??
I'm an orgasm trader!
I had to talk to the cops at my front door in a bathrobe, with the buttplug still in.
stop sending me battleship coordinates and get back here so i can suck your dick
He just yells "mush!" as they're having sex.
I think I just found my soul mate...he's wearing a zebra striped onesie and is into Michael Jackson...I'll explain in the morning.
Will you still call me Bond when I'm sober?
Stop recording sex noises and setting them as my ringtones. This time it was at a funeral
Randomize
