So I just opened the bag you gave me and those panties aren't mine...
oh
I don't want to talk about it. He was like the Little Engine that couldn't get me off.
I will never get the visual of you crying while chewing christmas lights out of my head
His apartment number was 69. I had to.
I can't be drunk. Sober yes. Drunk no. Spoonfuls
So I think before Superbowl weekend begins we should all take a look back on last year and learn from our pitfalls... AKA no touchdown shots and kitchen crying.
Well, I found my bra. It's in my glove compartment with a half-eaten Snickers bar and a Jesus bookmark.
My life is a joke. Told everyone last night that they could call me Mrs. McCormick because I'm gonna end up alone with a handle of peach vodka anyways.
You may want to re-read your sent texts from last night. You were texting me about your "fire shits" spelled 6 different ways between 3 and 5:30 AM.
I am so sorry for drunk texting you r kelly lyrics
Well I mean he still had sex with me after I told him that I play fetch with the kids I take care of, so I'm not really looking too far ahead with him...
i just love the holidays, i hotboxed a gingerbread house last night
At least you didn't wake up next to your professor who then proceeded to cancel class via phone while still inside of me.
I've never been so excited to be bleeding from my vagina.
Step 1 was make out with him. so now we just need to come up with step 2.
Randomize
