sorry about calling you the devil all night.
Seriously. Doesn't matter if I went out last night, work is like crafts class w.a side of facebook
She bought a fucking hedgehog. And that's just the tip of the crazy iceberg.
He introduced himself to me as "the gayest gay who ever gayed." I like him already.
When I opened my laptop there was a half eaten little debbie oatmeal cream pie inside.
I found out that my first kiss was an Italian. Even in kindergarden i knew size mattered.
And apparently midway I said "hurry up and finish so we can talk about what a bad idea this was"
There is a large, jolly black gentleman in the parking lot of my appartment complex yelling about 5am jelly doughnuts. I want to be where he's at.
To sum up. The glass blower from the ren faire ate me out last night. Best ever. Go find yourself an artisan.
Ps I think male models just broke down outside or maybe gay German sex travelers
Go to the bar. Find a girl. Ask if she can cook. Tell her you have a guitar at home. Ask her if she wants to see it. Bring her home. Sleep with her. Tell her it's your birthday in the morning. Enjoy your made with lust breakfast.
Bottom line; if I'm coming out of my bat cave to do the dishes and get a chicken wing and I have no pants or makeup on and my messy bun looks more like Santa got leprosy and crashed his sled into the back of my head then let me be. That's all I'm saying.
Why in the hell is there a guy dressed up as a horse passed out in our kitchen.
happy birthday!
Please god tell me you aren't pregaming your date alone.
Never joke about your clitoris.
Randomize
