Well he paid for dinner, so I paid for the Plan B, but the parking ticket I got is totally his responsibility.
You hit on my mom and then passed out in the kiddie pool.
They can be so fun, drunk bruises are like clues to the treasure of what actually happened last night. "why do I have a bruise on my belly button? oh right. i was trying to turn my stomach off so I would stop throwing up."
You kept trying to throw the grocery cart off the balcony.
I'm sorry, our booty call lines closed at 2 am. If you are receiving this message it is our off hours. Please try again between the hours of 12pm and 2 am to reschedule your booty call. Thank you for your cooperation.
I think I shall call his penis Gatsby. We talk about it all the time, but I never see it.
I broke my arm trying to do a hand stand in my shower to wash the hate out of my asshole.
Oh, AND I met a ukulele teacher that I'd date. So there's that.
It was like we had a conversation with our eyes.
Was it a good conversation?
It was an awkward, sexual conversation.
I'm convinced he's the patron saint of oral sex
Who gets call-your-ex-from-4-years-ago drunk on a Thursday??
I'm sorry for drunkenly throwing a spoon at you and then laughing at your pain.
I'm out of milk so I'm dunking my Oreos in Bailey's; this is my life now.
I didn't mean that as an expression. I'm literally asking if you want to watch Netflix and do nothing.
I have to charm this cab driver. Hold on.
Randomize