I am good. I dancing. Drinking but dancing fine.
I just realized that all of my cardio comes from dancing on tables.
Trying to figure out when's a good time to take acid and not tell anyone and see how long it takes people to notice
I feel like everytime I call him he's either fucking or getting into trouble. It's really disturbing that he presses the answer button and then proceeds to fuck her harder.
It was the textbook our-balls-touched-while-engaged-in-a-threesome-with-our-bosses-wife conversation.
It amazes and alarms me I'm not shocked to read that.
I'm beginning to think the entirety of my appeal is due to the size of my ass.
Please tell me that SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE, has created a drink called a 'Tequila Mockingbird'. PLEASE.
Am I supposed to confront my 52-year-old boss/mother of 3 about the fact that we matched on Tinder?
I ran into a wall that clearly had things popping out. My eyebrow was bruised, both arms, the bottom of my foot. Lost half of my finger nail, my fake eyelash was stuck in my hair and I have about 47 blurry pictures of a half naked zombie DJ.
So apparently dinosaur erotica does, in fact, exist.
Facebook is for cat videos and having better lives than people from high school, period.
It was terrible. I am sore from head to toe, neither of us got off, and we were at it for an hour and a half, I faked having a heart episode so we could stop. It worked.
I twisted my ankle while drunkenly playing in my adult kickball league. Now I'm having to use my grandpa's cane to walk at this party. I am so single.
Girl in front of me just swan dove into the middle of the carpeted hallway, stood up, clapped for herself, and then continued walking. My life is complete.
I don’t know what language he speaks but I know my boobs will translate just fine
I’m looking forward to few days of international relations
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