So, I woke up to an empty bottle of scotch and a dead car. The last thing I remember are the strippers being mad at me. Awesome night.
Feels good to be wearing underwear again though...
there's a booger on my laptop, i suspect it's yours
My text messages all automatically add Zs on them cause of your skank ass messages you send me
I wouldn't call it sex. It's like when you put a plug in a socket half way. It's not all the way in but it still turns on the light.
i can tell by the sound of your bed that he isnt that good at sex.
The baby slept soo good last night. Its like he knows the importance of me being intoxicated all weekend.
Postcard from jail please. Reserving a spot on my fridge.
I would convert to being a Republican and Mormon just to sleep with Romney's sons. The things I would to do them.
well you don't shave your pubes into a handlebar mustache and keep the party to yourself
every time someone would wish me happy birthday I would be like "thanks happy birthday to you too"
I'm not even the least bit surprised that I whored myself out for tiramisu
She had a baby Jesus butt plug
What shade of lipstick clearly states, I'm only attending this wedding for the drugs and groomsmen?
Please don't fuck the professor. We both know that won't end well.
...i have a beer in one hand, and a chicken wing in the same. typical tuesday, right?
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