i'm not a human right now. not even a dancer.
the bulge in his pants is not junk. its hair. trust.
Riding home in a carseat. Worst. Night. Ever.
This smoking ban is really fucking with my ability to fart in public
i was so drunk i stopped mid-blowjob to make sure he i was with my boyfriend and not some random. twice.
After blacking out and loosing my phone for a month, I found it in the parking lot across the street. Last text "rager in the street". I remember none of this.
Maybe he meant to say like I love fucking you? But just forgot the fucking part.. That's what I'm telling myself.
Ok, was I really fucked up or was there a chick from Norway in the ice cream shop teaching us Norwegian last night?
I'll give you $10 to get a dick pic with a gecko on it.
By the end of the first quarter he was so hammered he was pouring beer into the crockpot with the miniature hot dogs and BBQ sauce saying he loved the supper bowl and he loves taking mini weinies to the face
So I'm going to regale you with a tale of someone who went out, was fed way to many shots, got super wasted and now has a date with one of the security guards from the building but has no idea what his name is. That someone is me
oh I'm washing fake blood out of my bra.
I NEED to hang out with you more
God, please protect all woman from micro-penises
you just don't appreciate it because you've never been arrested
I don't know what kind of bucket list you have, but having sex with a tree isn't on mine...
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