your room smells of hookers.
And success
you were making out, puked over his shoulder and insisted everything was okay
He plays me like an instrument...he is the Carlos Santana of my vagina.
She deep throated me and when I woke up she made me pizza. I was full of emotions I started to cry.
I've gotta stop getting kicked out of bars for fighting with people over the accuracy of the Harry Potter movie.
There's a Russian guy here. In the bar. Drinking vodka. Wearing a trench coat and a hat and a mustache. Idk where the confusion is.
I love it. Like, more than my penis at the moment.
I'm pretty sure every guy I've been with this weekend has made a solid attempt at getting me pregnant...
Yeah everyone's alive and well besides the still terrifying threat of Ted's conception of a human being
In other news there is a guy at my office who I'm pretty sure will be wearing someone's skin as a coat one day.
I don't want to flatter myself but after the way he was looking at me today I think it might be me.
Btw I'm already known as the drunk roommate. Don't know if that's a success or a failure seeing as it hasn't even been a week since I've been here
Charles Manson is Getting Married and I stare down at my tits and wonder how I am possibly single.
I woke up to pizza pinned to my wall. So that's that.
too bad we didn't bet. my 38-1 tears would have made great lubrication for a blow job.
Tequila. The ruiner of all good intentions.
Randomize
