Boobs. All I remember is boobs.
Sorry i'm not sorry i made out with your dad. It was father's day weekend, get a grip
my purse only fit my wallet or the martini shaker. it wasnt even a question of which i was bringing.
I'm doing laundry in pjs and heels, home alone with my margarita bucket.
Sorry really high. We have no lighter so we're lighting the bowl with rolled up paper towels lit by candle which also lit with a rolled up paper towel that we lit with the stove eye
My summer fucks are coming back to haunt me with a vengeance.
all 3 of us brought blondes home last night. all 3 are passed out. we're gonna switch rooms and see how long until one of them notices.
That reminds me of that one time you handcuffed me to a table leg while I was reaching for the vodka.
You should make it a point to use vocabulary that is competition appropriate around him, like "champion" and "training" and "victory sex"
Don't be alarmed at the kitchen mess. I had to shoot the fire extinguisher on the toaster oven, one quick blast. It was a matter of safe over sorry.
We spilled a whole bottle of mouth wash and then proceeded to roll around and make out in it. At least I smell minty fresh.
As a matter of fact, I am on the treadmill with the Bottle of UV Blue as we speak.....
This is America. Deny every slut accusation or own up to it
I'm laying here half naked telling him I'm eating gold fish to change the subject of hookin up cuz I don't wanna put pants on
the insurance claim form from last night says foreign object removal from genitourinary tract so as far as the insurance company knows, it could have been a gerbil
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