Writing a book: The Evolution of the Douche Bag: From Popped Collars to Ed Hardy Shirts. Doing research now.
Make sure you include chapters on white sunglasses, spray tans, and toxic amounts of hair gel.
On a scale of one to trashy, how is this: Got drunk, gave a guy a hand job. In the middle of the bar
I think you broke the trashy scale
She's licking the seat belt now. Feeling a little uncomfortable
I thought the one perk of the low caliber of men I've slept with thus far in my college career is that I would never run into them in the library. I've been here for ten minutes and we're on number three.
I am the master of subtle flirting. I seduced him by simulating a hand job with an epi-pen during training.
I don't care how hot he got, I can't get past the PTSD flashbacks of the first time he fingered me
Fuck Sunday funday. Fuck real pants. Fuck the sun. Fuck Jameson. Fuck my life. Yes, I am hungover as shit sitting in my office eating bacon.
So the bump is from hitting my head in an elevator. Apparently I dived into a cab head first too.....
Will it be a clothes optional week when I get there? I have an amazing outfit of tattoos and toenail polish planned.
She's crying about either her ex boyfriend, her one night stand, or her own puke. None of those is worth the tears.
According to the arrest report, I shouted "no, YOU put some pants on" at the cop. Downhill from there.
Well, he didn't buy me a birthday present but he sure did give me chlamydia so there's that.
I was so drunk I got motion sickness from sex.
guess who smoked weed with their grandpa tonight. and no it wasn't me.
Someone made a Christmas song to the Flintstones theme and I'm suing for emotional distress.
Randomize
