drunk lawn darts. Let's test the homeowners policy
at the hospital. he locked himself in the kitchen, said he was making beer batter shrimp. don't know if it's the mercury poisoning, alcohol poisoning or second degree burns they're holding him for, but i've got a pretty guess.
apparently there was a flour fight and couch sex...
Any night you end up on the couch next to the trash can with a bag of white wine on your head is a rough night.
Remind me tomorrow that I was taking shots of burnetts in the subway line while placing my order
He's trying to marry me, when is the appropriate time to tell him my real name and that Dallas is a completely fictitious slutty alter ego? I need the advice of someone with morals.
I passed out in all my clothes. like my purse too..and with a cup of water next to me..and my last tweet last night was "Bye."
I remember doing shots of gin, then I have this strange memory of us making out in the womens room at waffle house.
I regret none of it.
We are planning a drunk snapchat treasure hunt for tomorrow, and the treasure is his penis, this is a game I'm not willing to loose.
I don't know what to say to that. All I know is my vagina is trying to jump through the phone.
I'm on the fast track to lesbian land
He turned on read receipts specifically so i'd know he was ignoring me.
Come over.
Look lady I can't have sex with you EVERY day. I have things to do.
Tomorrow has nothing to do with the threesome
I am the one with the vagina. I get to call it.
Is it totally acceptable to fuck a co-worker even though we don't speak the same language?
Why do you even have to ask me that question
Randomize
