There are traffic cones in the living room. One of them is yours.
I DON'T CARE WHAT THE CIRCUMSTANCES ARE NEVER VOMIT IN MY PURSE AGAIN.
We're not even buying beer. Just vodka. In pre-retrospect this was a bad idea but we're doing it anyway
As I am reading this. I'm standing in my underwear eating taquitos. I'm saying this in the most loving way possible: FUCK OFF.
You're either a hooker or Beyonce. Beyonce is abnormally good at doing everything in heels
We're 17 hours into a 3 day weekend, and he's already shitfaced. He fell of the dock TWICE and insisted on wearing a life jacket on dry land.
Please, take the 2 shots of vodka that I left as an apologie.
Her fortune said that she will soon be free. She's taking her bra off at the table.
She's comparing the feel of breasts to shredded cabbage. Weirdest. Grandmother. Ever.
If I ever see that bitch it is going down flavor of love style
Again. I'm very sorry I tried to poke your eye out. You've been aware of my inability to aim since day one.
This week I fucked a police officer and called both the Senators from the state I'm in and the one I'm moving to. What have you done since the election?
Nothing much. Just taking shots of tequila before I go get a bikkini wax. You?
I need mimosas to revive my soul
Is that your Nuva ring on the floor? Shit must have gotten crazy
Randomize
