I just want to sing "highway to the danger zone" when I'm taking his pants off.
as soon as you compare a person to an animal, all sexual interest is out the window
I have shoes on. No pants. And my jacket pockets are full of ketchup and grass. Yes. Good night.
Long labias. Talking about. Too drunk to explain. Tomorrow.
Jesus Christ, she just started playing Enya and is humming along to it. Way, way, way too hungover to deal with her shitty taste in music
A-plus on my thesis. I deserve the blowjob to end all blowjobs. And I wanna wear a crown while you do it.
Dont worry about the blood on the pillow. its from my face.
hiding in a bush to avoid a seven dollar cab ride. cabby got out a flashlight and looked for us for like an hour. help.
Things we need. Powerade. Water in fridge. Mixers for vodka. And reality checks.
I am VERY upset that you called my fiesta a waste of time.
"Clean/organize my room day" turned into "Blast my old Jock Jams cds while getting high as fuck with a strobe light day"
I'm sitting on the toilet just to avoid my bosses look of disapproval
I'm so hungover. I just keep eating the otter pops I'm trying to use to get rid of my hickies.
I'm glad you don't care about kids. That's one of your better qualities.
you'll kiss me after i give you a blowjob but you wont kiss me after I eat apple sauce? am I the only one who sees something wrong with this?
Randomize
