You keep asking me questions like I have this magical thing called a memory
Come over! I've just turned Titanic into a drinking game. I drink every time I want to fuck Leonardo DiCaprio.
Just wrote the directions to get to the girls house im hooking up with on the back of my marriage certificate. Officially worst husband ever.
she made me take her to the grocery store to buy a gallon of sweet tea and a shit ton of band aids, the cashier asked if someone was hurt and she replied "not yet.."
He only dropped the Russian accent after we started having sex.
She's laying here with her head in my lap stoned, eating Doritos, whining about her boyfriend, and listening to Cher. Fuck the friend zone.
Im calling him
was mistake calling. If you drunk dial someone you deserve to choke on a tubesock. Take the advice. Always remember
I just realized the only way to play Edward forty-hands is commando in a skirt. This intelligence kick is really doing me justice.
You know it's been a rough year when your therapist mouth is just wide open. And I didn't even get to the real issue!
my poor anus
You literally chaperoned my booty call.
Honestly, the only reason I've been productive today was because I ended up organizing my apartment while searching for my vibratory charger.
You squatted and peed on the living room floor while maintaining eye contact with Sebastian
We ended the night eating peanutbutter with our hands and smoking cigarettes in the house at 4am. Fucking Everclear, man.
You got drunk, made toast, and declared yourself a domestic goddess.
Randomize
