my phone is just a graveyard for last nights mistakes. at least it's giving me hints as to where i was though, i'm like carmen sandiego
bubblegum was invented today. we're getting drunk. end of story.
you were watching the nanny crying, saying I wish I was that thin eating twinkies. THAT DRUNK.
Found a 10-can wizard staff hidden in our closet. Did we cut someone off?
That's yours. We cut you off.
unfortunetly they frown upon drunk on duty paramedics
gladiator or hannah montana?
This is why I never have to ask who you are when I get a new phone.
And after getting thrown out of the frat house, getting carried up the hill for a half an hour, puking 5 times, and almost getting stopped by campus security, she still insisted he sleep with her. Gotta give her credit, even blacked she kept her eyes on the prize
Only sluts go out in this weather carpe diem boys
if the furniture in my bedroom wasn't shape shifting... this would be a different story.
I was so drunk that I passed out before I could do or say anything I'd regret. My low alcohol tolerance is like a guardian angel.
Having sex with him is like eating mayo. Don't think about it, just do it. It's worth it.
He's 30 years old and woke me up for a hand job. Last time I go home with someone I met through Tinder.
Ehh, the third backed out. Two still isn't bad. Who gets a bootycall to pick them up from a bootycall's house anyways? Only me.
So you can now add nose to my list of places that cum has gone that it shouldn't...
This is a hangover from hell. Delivered by the devil himself.
Randomize
