I called the bartender Mr. Intoxication last night. He thought it was funny until i threw up and blamed it on him
I told him it tasted like his mom..needless to say we were asked to leave.
What should i be more turned off about... his massive collection of condoms or that he asked me to sign my name by number 68 on the list posted on his wall?
I think the two go hand in hand.
I learned to sign I want to be on you today
Score
Deaf chicks here I come
You kept yelling that her vagina looked like a hatchet wound.
I finally won that bet on when the anorexic girl would pass out at the gym. You owe me 10 now
I am NOT getting arrested in a wig.
I mean, I gave him a hand job on the Pearl Harbor tour bus; I don't know what the fuck else he wants out of this "relationship"
Um please remind me to tell you what happened tonight. It involves wine, pain killers and firing a handgun in our apartment. Legit might be hiding from the cops this weekend.
I wonder how he feels knowing that he's the one who turned me gay
I need to reevaluate my stance on weekday hangovers...
He said that he had extra crunchy taquitos and wanted to go down on me.. I mean how could I say no?
I've only fucked to 2 Fleetwood Mac songs, that must be why my life feels so empty.
I was writing 'DISTRACTION' across my chest in Sharpie when my boob fell out. Right on camera.
I'm alone, 3 beers in, and cutting tshirts into belly tops.
Randomize
