I think the phrase "bag of smashed assholes" describes it best
oh great. the only prospects for sex left for the night are douchebag in the ed hardy shirt & frodo-looking ass
fuck it... i'll be the lord of his rings
She looks like Sash Grey but sounds like Fran Drescher. Advise.
It's not weird mascara. I just have puke crusted on my eyelashes.
Sucks about the cops last night
to be honest when I first looked up I wanted to know who was coming from a costume party..
James and whatshisface bought me drunks. I am drinks.
it's ok. you also told me I can feel free to vomit on your blow dryer sometime.
im pretty sure the clearest way to say "dont worry, im not emotionally attached" was by sleeping with his roommate the next night
I can't talk to her. I know entirely too much about her genitals to hold a conversation without mentioning them.
All I remember is passing out with an umbrella over my head and waking up screaming bad luck for seven years
The last thing I remember from that party was me shouting "hold my feet I'm going in strapped like Rambo"
then she lifted her dress, tweaked her own nipples, and then ordered another round for everyone. this place is wild at 9pm.
where did we go last night? there's dollar bills all over my room & they're all wet.
he asked me where I was going to school, and then we started having sex, and I answered his question forty five minutes later after we were done. It was the chilliest thing ever.
I'm still trying to figure out who shit on the coffee table. I have confirmed beyond a reasonable doubt that it wasn't me.
Randomize