don't worry, i have a range rover and a brother hopped up on steroids.. we can solve this little misunderstanding quite easily.
I ride home in a shopping cart. Don't at like you aren't jealous.
2 bagels in my tummy and my herpes on my mind
we ran out of wine so you tried to make some by throwing grapes and nail polish remover in a blender.
I looked at my arm when I woke up..I guess after 8 tally marks I said fuck it and wrote "too much"
he ate out my asshole, i really don't think he gets embarrassed easily.
She posts like 3 statuses a day pleading for pity. Responding positively would be like giving a dog a treat for shitting on the floor.
she chased the tour bus screaming I BET YOUR DICK IS THE SIZE OF YOUR MICROPHONE STAND. i think its safe to say were never getting vip passes again.
When we started taking double shots of vodka and chasing it with a lick of fruit roll-ups, I knew there'd be hell to pay in the morning.
Only once have I found myself in the condom aisle holding a bundt cake...
Doing lines off a plate that says, "things go better with coke."
i could have been the DD. this is ridiculous. i'm the most sober and getting the least ass.
I need to get a job that holds me accountable for something. Otherwise I wake upon Monday wondering when the booze store opens and if I still have a boyfriend.
I'm dangerously close to tossing this whole "morals" bullshit and swan-diving into the fuckboy lifestyle.
Anyways enough about genital fatigue...
Randomize