I'm twenty-five. I'm too old to be watching my friend throw up in Chipolte Parking lot.
she just refered to her hymen as "the mrs"
they have a walk of shame score keeper on their fridge. I marked my tally for him on my way out..
I woke up and blew hamburger out my nose. That kinda night.
She insisted on fucking on the futon mattress on the floor, answered the phone call from her boyfriend who was on his way to pick her up, and then had the audacity to ask if I was clean
I smell like Captain Morgan and tears
You're not supposed to support this behaviour, btw the judge recognized me
No, no, we have to calibrate. What is the maximum amount of trouble we can get into without going to jail?
ripping the fire alarm off the wall probably seemed like a better idea last night than it really was.
Sex-sore abs and my workout pants have gravel stains on the knees. It's like the workout of shame.
Sweating vodka and spray tan, I feel like a trophy wife.
Why didn't you tell me I was calling her by her sisters name all night?
Under no circumstances is tits McGee to make that kind of decision about my life!
Don't send me nudes asking me to come fuck you on lunch break then send me a video of kids you're babysitting.
Listen gotta draw the line somewhere. Apparently that line is at my nuts.
Randomize
