Note to self: soco dudes get amusinly uncomfotable when I moan at the urinal.
vicodin is the reason why I believe in magic
I threw up into my coffee this morning.
In a tragic sexting typo, I typed the word "blobjob". Now she's coming over and I have no idea what I'm in for...
she was puking red wine out the car window, telling me about how shes joining weight watchers tomorrow, not okay.
I ate cinnamon toast crunch. I'm officially out of the puke zone. Blackout drunk Friday. WHAT IS GOOD.
You stood outside his house all night throwing your sister's leftover Easter eggs and singing 'now you're just somebody that I used to blow'
I know it basically makes me the worst feminist ever, but I don't want to kill my own spiders. And I will pay my personal spider hit man with sammiches and unlimited , uninhibited access to my vagina.
Oh god. I asked to "play his sexaphone" which I though was a super sex way to say "let me blow you". He fucking walked home at 4:30am
A big dick and how quickly they respond to snapchat is all I look for in a guy
there are no losers in shot checkers. only winners.
When Pitbull's songs sum up your life... you know it's time for some serious life changes.
I want your cock. I also want to cuddle you and tell you how amazing you are, because you know balance.
He's on the porch naked. Help.
Im getting out of handcuffs then i'll give you a call
Randomize
