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.
I have a client coming in and there's a note that says she wants her hair to like Elisabeth Hasselback's from the view
that's Oklahoma for you
I just used 'come play with my balls' as a legitimate booty call attempt. And it worked.
Chasing shots by shotgunning beers is not a good idea.
We need to get her a baby shower present. And no, a blow up sex doll with her dead boyfriends picture stuck to it, is not appropriate.
I told him he was like my favorite pair of jeans; I may not wear them every day, but I'll never get rid of them and they make my ass look fantastic. Needless to say he was not thrilled.
put something nutritious in your body. AND NOT JUST THAT JOINT.
Remember Christopher who always sends me pictures of his penis? Look to your right, boy in the blue.
Oh dear. If we're both hearing alien sounds then perhaps they're real.
I am so sorry. Not sure for what, but whatever I did last night probably merits an apology, so I'm covering my bases.
My v day was great. There's a cum stain in the shape of a handprint on my sheets
Note to self: never fuck a Canadian, surprisingly highly disappointing
I can say with absolute certainty the only time we ever had a civil conversation was when we agreed we both liked pizza.
Remind me to NEVER AGAIN mix beer with tequila with beer with whiskey with vodka with rum with vodka.
Drunk within and hour of coming home from work, merry christmas bitch
Randomize
