Through a series of unfortunate circumstances, I think I just sprayed lime juice on my vagina.
you're the one who masterbates every night to the titanic soundtrack
you said grace in the diner. 5am, drunk, grace. you thanked the man w the mushroom cut for the wonderful supply of screwdrivers
To make up for the snow days we missed he's making us write a paper on alcoholism. It's like he knows.
Judging by the fact that my hair was glued to my head with vomit, yeah I think I couldve used a friend last night
Resolution for 2011: blow jobs are a privilege, not a right.
I'll probably regret it tomorrow. But right now, accepting this $2000 credit card so that I can finance booty calls from across the united states sounds like a golden idea.
I am very happy to share that the hospital says the testicle pain is normal and that they are going to take care of it.
He could stay over, if you'd just ask.
Yeah. What am I supposed to say? "Oh, my couch is occupied, but my vagina's not"
Who knows. Maybe the world would be a better place if more people sent their drug dealers thank you cards.
Also cheers for the reminder to check last night's texts. It's been a magical adventure through drunk me's thought process.
Well you fished my watch out of a possibly vomit filled toilet so I think we're bros now.
It's only funny because he thinks you had sex with him to rob him.
Two questions: Did you enjoy your birthday present and how did i wake up with glitter all over my dick?
I either have food poisoning or I'm pregnant. Either way, I NEED JESUS!
Randomize