Last night was a blur. All I remember is jizzing in the squeegee bucket at a gas station.
The look on the soccer mom's face was PRICELESS.
he asked me out through an event invitation on facebook, the title read Romantic Dinner For 2
sometimes i wish i had boobs. not on me. just like in a drawer.
God gave him joint rollers for hands
booty call hours are between 1:30-3:00 AM thurs-sat with the exception of major drinking holidays and election days. please try again
Now one day I will be able to tell my children how a drag queen in a gay bar told mommy that bin laden was dead
Driving by his house every hour is not stalking, it's a reconnaissance mission... How else can I confront him
You told me to remind you that the bruise on your ass is from when you danced on the table at Ziggy's, saw a cop and tried to 'fly away'.
How is it that I, the only one that didn't drink last night, was the only one puking out the car window?
How are you feeling?
I mean, shattered dignity aside, not bad.
All you have to drink is moonshine and ranch. This is bullshit.
Magyver!
These morning walks of shame have became my morning jogs
Think i may just have managed the saddest high-five in history. Finished a sudoku and high-fived myself, then looked around for somebody to high five. there was noone. forever alone.
My purse is full of condoms and money.
I like where this is going...
You were up on table in a neon bra chanting "YOUR MOM" while drizzling vodka on your chest...
no wonder i woke up with my boobs stuck to my bra
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