I think my hot accountant is wearing banana republic. I miss the days when that ='ed gay. Signals are so confusing now.
he just asked me if he could show me what he wanted to do to me using his action figures. where do i find these freaks?
walking through the french quarter. a homeless guy just offered me a pigeon. gotta love new orleans.
I don't really see how asking you not to cum on my face or hair makes me high maintenance
Everything in my purse is 100% saturated in red wine, which made it challenging to cover up my booze breath with franzia soaked gum
I'm chugging Gatorade because i drank something called a trashcan and someone named Gianna diamond has my credit card number, and I think I might have ruined my life.
Someone spilled vodka all over the elevator floor. Bring straws.
No. I want to vom filet mignon and ziti bits everywhere and my body feels like I ran a cock triathalon. I feel less triumphant and more like death.
It's probably because the lack of alcohol in your stomach. Alcohol kills bacteria. I am a doctor. Trust me
I got another blow job proposal last night. Skills.
Oh it's not a problem. Cleaning up the yard and disposing of 75 gallons of Jello is all I've got to look forward to today.
I danced with this guy last night, I left like I was humped by a blind baby kangaroo trying to body-box.
Trying to take a nap and my brain decides to play "lets have flashbacks every time you blew it with a chick in college". It's a montage of stupidity and youthful inexperience. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.
He should know he can't successfully wrestle in pudding fully clothed. Amateur.
Like I could never be a lawyer because I would just look like a porn star impersonation of a lawyer.
Randomize