i woke up with a shirt on. the kids in my daycare group had a lot of questions when i took off my shirt at the pool to reveal "property of brittany" written on my chest and an arrow pointing to my dick.
I've had a Margarita with salt, but I have to say I was impressed by the Stoli and Sprite rimmed with adderall
She punched my vomit. In midair. Back into my mouth.
He turned down jacuzzi sex. He cares more about my vagina than i do.
If I die, I leave all my liquor in my apartment to you. Be a drunk bitch at my funeral. I wouldn't want it any other way.
How do I politely say my vagina is not a chew toy and if you bite me again I will slap you?
You could say take it easy, whoa there, be gentle, anything that doesn't fully convey the horror.
Of course I'm using oj as a mixer, its flu season.
I'm currently deliberating if I'm going to be too drunk on New Years to handle wearing false eyelashes.
I took a 19 year old to a strip club and ended up in a three way. Divorced life might be OK.
This makes me appreciate being single with no prospects.
Vodka for breakfast. With a side of Frankenberries. Don't judge me.
somehow I wound up on the floor crying about his beard. then telling everyone I'd give him a "lesbian blowjob".
If you find out what that means, show me.
We had everything under control until this one jackass fucked up. Thanks, Peter.
Last night you were throwing up in my toilet singing "all by myself."
one week and then i'm back on the sexual grind. a party is being planned in my vagina's honor
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