I now officially know the distance between my two boobs is one twizzler.
my life is one jail cell away from being a bad country music song.
Saw a guy in a chef outfit covered in mustard talking jiberish into his phone running across the skywalk.
Things we need. Powerade. Water in fridge. Mixers for vodka. And reality checks.
Our sex bag has now been upgraded to sex luggage, with wheels, and now features a first aid kit. Game. On.
They're doing shots to celebrate every 15 minutes passing. You can come get them.
He seemed like a really nice guy. He tried to dry my shirt because someone spilled their drink on me. I think that's how I ended up topless on his dryer.
I think I'm still drunk and I think you were in my dream (sadly, it was not a sexual bill murray one).
Fucken Tweens. They smelled like cotton candy and hand jobs my nostrils were offended.
A man just squeezed past me in a tight space and said, "Excuse us."
Six words: 3rd Degree Burn On My Dick
When she introduced her friend to me I shook his hand and told him not to leave his ugly vest at my apartment in the morning. He took it off and bought me a shot.
He showed me his scar from his appendix surgery. It was educational and fun....
What??! Dude I'm not having you barging in at like 2 am smelling of cigarettes and disappointment to sleep on my couch and then have an awkward morning with my wife while I'm at work.
Touché sir
His wife isn’t coming to the wedding! I’ve got 48 hours to home wreck him. Gotta go, I have to shave my vajayjay and buy some really slutty underwear. Love you!
Randomize
