Why are you at a bar in Connecticut?
Long story. One that now involves lots of delicious chicken wings om nom nom
I'm not crazy, I only keep calling you cause you won't pick up.
He's married, but his wife isn't my neighbor so I don't feel bad about coveting him.
Her dad smelled like someone lit a fart and burned their ass hairs.
I just heard a mom tell her toddler son "shut the fuck up. Don't ask me to buy you shit when i'm taking u to go see some fucking animals" welcome to the bronx.
what part of covering your puke with shaving cream seemed like a good idea?
Come to me. Jacob is confessing his love and all I want is a hot dog. With chili. Not love.
Burnt my ear trying to use the bathroom blow dryer as a telephone.
You left for an hour, then walked up to us at the bar, pulled 80 dollars out of your bra and yelled " drinks are on him".
You have dresses for different occasions. I need different men's dicks too. It's logic.
After so many times of carrying your puked covered clothes home in a bag on a Tuesday morning, you begin to realize that Fucked Up Mondays aren't a real thing.
You threw up on yourself mid conversation with your mom and then told her a girl at the party puked on you.
I sleep better at night when I win things. I never really weep for others.
I got in an argument over whether or not I'm a slut. I argued yes.
danced like there was no tomorrow. surprise. there's a tomorrow
Randomize
