Britney fell asleep on the couch in the foier, got up stripped then pissed on the floor. Then got dressed and went to sleep in it. Also downstairs toilet clogged. Not me. I will be gone by the time you get home from work. Have fun.
i found the vodka. it was hiding in the orange juice.
I just had a librarian tell me that "wikipedia is like sex"
When he expanded on the analogy it actually made sense. "you're going to do it either way, so I'm just going to tell you how to do it safely."
We're learning about the color wheel. Hello college.
Besides. I don't even really like sex because it feels great. I like it because for thirty minutes I own that guys ass.
you strike me as the kind of person who when they spill something on their lap they take off their pants and eat it anyways. right off the crotch seam.
This stupid maranara sauce stain sucks. It keeps distracting me and it looks like I'm staring at my tits.
I told him I felt we were at the point where if I saw him talking to another girl, I'd probably choke him out. So I guess you could say things are getting serious.
The fact that me being able to walk down stairs is an accomplishment in my books pretty much explains how I am
as your best friend, I hope we never outgrow 'I Just Got Laid' texts
I've been to his house multiple times since that night and I STILL can't find my bra. And he says the hot tub ate my thong.
that game of battleshots got way too fucking intense. why does the couch have burn marks now.
This is why you arnt allowed in pet stores
please come back. it's turned into strip rock paper scissors
So i've noticed that drunk me erases sent messages to hide them from sober me, because drunk me knows that sober me will be PISSED at drunk me.
Randomize
