I miss Bob Barker.
Yeah, more like Douche Carey...
my life trainwreck boards at 9:30
Not enough clothes on. Not enough vagina. Not enough drugs in my body.
I mean, yeah, she was cheating on me but I've been fucking her brother. My secret relationship trumps her secret relationship.
Just saw a woman in bootie shorts and a winter coat at the library. God. Bless. Prostitutes.
I don't know when it is this year, but if I ever text you an illegible text that also happens to contain sharks, Shark Week started.
New reason to drink: alcohol makes soda taste like goddamn gold.
I think you'll be amused to know that I achieved the impossible feat of tripping over my own dick
I woke up in a toga after going to a Hawaiian party. I don't even know.
I vaguely remember us chasing shots by licking each other's faces last night. Our friendship has reached another level completely.
hell no. i was not wasting my two tears of virginity on him.
oh i see... well this is a positive first step in you courting him for sex.
mid-sex she goes "oh my god. you aren't even going to remember my name in the morning, are you?". And i was so wasted that i straight up told her "honestly, I don't even remember your name right now"
There's a little game I've come up with since the mess of a party I had; it's called "tinsel or condom wrapper? (or: what's that on the floor?)"
I am really drunk and also a zombie.
Randomize
