I thought I drunk dialed Adam last night and left him a voicemail. I just checked my phone. I realize I left a drunk voicemail with my son's teacher.
If this place produced love children they would be born wearing Lilly Pullitzer with raging coke addictions.
If there was chocolate on Regis Philban's dick, I would totally lick it off. That's how desperate I am for some right now.
I got to find out the airplane alcohol limit, and somehow I made it through the flight.
Probably shouldn't have worn my jeans covered in blood from last night to class.
He left a trail of vomit straight from our dorm to the bathroom. Looks like we have our identities for the rest of the year.
There are so many birds around me. And squirrels. I feel like that chick from Enchanted...but like if she had a dick and made poor life decisions.
The goal for tonight is vagina. In and around. Doesn't matter who. How. Or why.
Alls I remember is making out with that chick.
Nope that was a dude
Best feedback on my performance so far: "There are things that can't be unseen."
Technically, I traded a soft pretzel for sex last night...
I feel like you're the reason public nudity is illegal and generally frowned upon in society
I shouldn't be drunk at 3 pm but alas, here we are...
Well, after a pitcher of beer, I set my ex on fire. It was a little fire, he's fine. How's your night?
Are there rules against fucking your ex's dealer?
Randomize
