so i woke up to her 8 year old asking for a bowl of cereal...
i just turned barefoot contessa into a drinking game. everytime she uses a knife butter or salt i drink.
even through the webcam i could tell he was aiming for my face/hair
I was like, "um, that's my butthole."
At some point I made a semi-conscious decision that i was okay with sleeping in my own vomit.
I told her i was enlisting in the air force tomorrow.....it was like the activation code to her vagina
she thought the capital of kansas was topanga.
we went to sleep in different beds and woke up spooning. alcohol truly is the anti-cockblocker.
She just told me she blew the waiter in the bathroom. Should I still leave a tip?
You do resemble something that has been used as a chew toy.
My name in their phones is "That Girl". If i can't get it to go away, I might as well live up to it.
You said that we all need to "head out like a boner through sweatpants and get fucked." Jager night was a success.
Boss out of town. Had 2 beers for lunch, a long walk and a bowl...and then in he comes. Blamed obvious intoxication on my pain meds. Back at the bar. This is one of those bad judgement days.
my hair smells like a mixture of fireworks and rotten eggs with a hint of shame. it's so strong it's keeping me awake.
the last thing is remember is that strange guy in the leotard...i woke up in my bed, naked, with a half eaten grilled cheese on my nightstand, a six pack in the fridge, a new pack of cigarettes on my pillow and coke in my purse. apparently i bought some drugs, shopped and cooked. typical.
Randomize
