so he expects you to be his vegas whore for the season. nice.
similar to the time we made up the game of screaming at the top of our lungs any time a guy any of us slept with walked into the party. that went over SO well.
You face planted into a car door. And somehow didn't drop your burrito.
That awkward moment when you can't tell what smells like tacos: you, the cat, or the strange guys blanket your so tenderly swaddled in.
With the drought our water bill is skyrocketing. No more shower sex, masturbating, or pretending to be under a water fall after smoking a blunt.
Here's a tip. Don't party with someone that needs sexual attention. Drinking and sexual attention don't mesh well in the morning. Especially over a bowl of Cheerios.
This girl ordered Hershey syrup and red wine and he made it for her
That and I was watching this life alert commercial and I'm pretty sure my liver turned up the volume for more information
It's cosmic balancing. My vagina is an instrument of karmic retribution.
I just did a shot of Jameson and two shots of cuervo. Note: this is the moment things went down hill
I just fixed my mom's tv over the phone in 2.17 minutes while high. I'm a fucking professional.
Your life is a soap opera of great sex, cats, and booze.
Someone needs to get Mark off the roof. I told you that he doesn’t shut up about ancient Egypt if you give him henny.
APPARENTLY I MISSED SOMEONE SWALLOWING A WHOLE BAG OF METH WHILE I WAS ON BREAK.
I’ve got full Covid immunity, blonde hair and great tits! I’m basically unstoppable
Randomize
