It's like a parade of train wrecks.
Cleveland boys shit in their own pumpkins in their own living room. Got pictures to prove it.
I wish I could donate my sober boners to my whiskey dick
I had five suicidal voicemails from him when I woke up this morning. They all started and ended with "DON'T FUCK MY ROOMMATES".
It was only one, it doesn't count.
His IQ is so high, I swear I started ovulating when he told me the number.
I'm sitting at home, day drinking, while watching crossroads with brittany spears. I'm not the person you should be asking for advice right now.
I feel like an ass. I'm not blacking out ever again. I want to clean your feet for a year. Just like Jesus did.
I didn't even realize I grinded on a security guard last night. Shit. Did he at least like it?
So question, would you consider it morally wrong to grind up Cialas and put it in ones cocktail? Then I get what I want and he doesn't have to be embarrassed and he can win the mental game with himself? I'm only thinking of him...
He made me brush his hair afterwards because it made him feel like a ken Barbie.
God I hope the sex was good.
I'd apply for another job, but "staring out windows crying" is not a hot qualification right now.
Nobody will take a lit match to your nipple without warning you this time. Pinky swear.
I'm scared because his knowledge of star trek is turning me on
I'm pretty sure that my eyebrow is going to be swollen from a sex injury tomorrow and possibly a black eye. If it forms that way it wiil be the second time. Different eyeball. Different decade.
Do you ever have one of those days when your breasts are just fucking awesome?
Randomize
