My kitchen smells like failed pina coladas.
I'm going to rise like a phoenix out of the drunken, shameful ashes that were last weekend.
Oh well shit happens. This is my not worried face. This is also my still decently drunk face.
This is the moment in my life where I take a fork in the "nice guy" road ive traveled for 23 years and fuck everything in sight that doesnt have herpes, or is in-between flare ups and I don't know about it until my dick is on fire.
Slow dancing with the chandelier.
It's been a year of occasional hook ups....this was bound to happen sometime even with your jank ovary schedule.
The problem is drunk me is completely unaware how poor I am
All I want is a guy who will love me and occasionally shave my balls.
My vibrator looks like a lipstick tube. So does my mace. I just realized the potential problems of keeping them both in the same bag.
He sent me a picture of a gas station condom and said "we probably shouldn't use this but if I was to impregnate someone on accident I'd want it to be you"
The zoom feature on snap chat videos is the worst thing to ever happen to sexting
Good news. His dicks gotten wayy bigger since high school. I love Thanksgiving break.
My liver is screaming fuck you right now.
You know the rule about how you feel bad for getting food and not offering other people you're around, does that apply when you eat burger king at a strip club?
Don't get into any trouble on your trip
The only foreseeable trouble would be pregnancy, but I gotta be sterile otherwise I'm beating some pretty fucking incredible odds
Randomize
