I could write a book called "things that come out of my vagina"
Found moms dildo in drawer while looking for socks, and its wet
We've had the 'life would be so much better if we were both lesbians' conversation too much for that to be okay.
I just found a bottle of gin in my vegetable crisper. Party is back on.
My life has become a never ending game of 'illegal or just frowned upon?'
The mystery gender stripper never showed up with that party burrito last night.
I didn't cheat on him. He just hasn't been informed of the open part of our relationship.
My neighbor caught me peeing on his rose bushes at 2 in the morning while wearing my Santa hat. My sex appeal has never been higher.
I think it says something about my life when I start picking up girls while im in rehab. And I don't think it's good.
Who had my phone last night? Whoever it was sent "Fuck you, you're adopted" to half the people on my contact list.
you were like "guys ... i think i got fingered while dancing tonight"
our poor poor cab driver
The point remains that this is the setup for some great stories
Or terrible, horrifying, traumatic experiences
great clearly means different things to us
I hope you have irresponsible drunk insurance because you're about to pay a deductible
I'm really just disappointed in myself for having sex with a musical theater major
No, you are in the clear. The police officer finally just said "I give up" and walked away.
Randomize