oh vodka. i could write you a sonnet.
First date: that requires underwear, huh?
in respone to your voicemail you left me on saturday, yes i had gone to bed and no i was not still drinking at 5am
okay, this game isn't funny anymore. tell us where all the forks are.
I'll be a little late, "getting ready for the party" turned into "smoking a bowl and doing lines in my room for an hour and a half." But I'm on my way now. With coke. And weed.
i'm sick of coming in second next to bourbon.
It was weird. Like "Mom, Dad, here's a guy who knows my orgasm face".
This spray tan I used isn't working out. I spent an hour exfoliating and rubbing the damn stuff in with rubber gloves. I wanted the alluring, sun-kissed, sexy look. I've achieved smelling like burnt popcorn and the cats won't stop licking me. I'm a salt lick for cats.
I've carried my liver for over 24 years. If it can't carry me for the next 24 hours than it deserves to be damaged.
I sobered up in the middle of it, that I was hooking up with him in a rosemary bush. I woke up smelling like a pasta dish
I saw your relationship status and wanted to write "Now you can fuck with some peace of mind that she isn't giving that other guy she met online a handjob."
I don't know what to think. Also, I decided to take a bath...sorry in advance if I flood the bathroom.
When in doubt, it's too much cheese
He was basically a horny puppy - following me around all night and kept sticking his hand down my pants.
Disregard everything I texted you last night. Oh, and disregard me hooking up with your boyfriend.
Randomize
