ya ever know whats down there. always send some fingers in first to scout the situation. fingers are not used for pleasure. they're used for covert missions.
Walk of shame was bad enough, but farting with each step as I walked past his roommates was just not cosmically fair.
Come scavenge bits of tuna out of my chest hair
When you're opening a bottle of tequila with a golf club, it's probably time to stop drinking...
you might as well be a hobo. you were covered in pee last night hanging out on the stairs drunk.
right. well we all have our lows.
It was like the Alcoholic Olympics...double fisting fifths with eight 40s in my backpack...running from the cops in stilettos. I will have bitchin' hamstrings come Monday.
Whenever you get off. By "pick me up from work" I mean, "pick me up from a bar by work at your earliest convenience" :)
I just sold my hat for three car bombs. I call that a win.
I have no idea what those words in that order meant, but if you go to Florida send me pics of strippers
Everytime I try to keep track of the amount of people I slept with I always forget about that guy I met on the dc metro, where I woke up to him organizing his Special K and Molly and I was covered in sleeping cats.
I asked him if we were going to get arrested for doing it in the bar parking lot. "Absolutly not" said the guy getting the blow job...
New fact of life: getting Becca high never helps any situation at all ever.
So I wore my ankle step-counter exercise thingy while I rode him. Don't fuck him- I only burned .2 pounds.
Come as you are, bitch. Glitter and vodka provided.
Could’ve gone my whole life not seeing a man snort coke off another man’s cock... but there it is...
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