woke up with a sweatshirt on that said "someone special calls me grandma" and a sword. i'm just going to assume that it was a good night
Last night you were talking while puking saying, "ahh the shoes and the purse, I'm gonna have to wash those"
I woke up to blood crusted on my face. I don't understand
team rage. no explanation necessary
explain the broken jalepenos in my underwear drawer?
Remember that time we became friends because I shotgunned a Tall Boy in your bathroom?
Those memories are both hazy and awesome.
Steve is gonna hang his bear rug on the wall because he doesn't trust us not to have sex on it...
I don't even know what beauty is right now. I wouldn't even pity fuck me today.
Apparently he took me home and I pulled up my senior pictures on fbook and made him guess what I was thinking during each different pose.
I told her I named my penis "The Spirit of Exploration." That's all it took.
Well to me, someone is not really my friend until we go to a mcdonalds drunk at 4am. It's like a right of passage
I think he has some internal "man stuff" that keeps getting in the way.
Like alcoholism and general douchbagary.
Some people are good at football, some people are good at painting, and he's good at being a fuckboy. Everyone has their talents.
Just googled myself and a bunch of boob shots of me came up. Apparently my phone automatically uploaded them to my google plus.
Please google me ASAP and ensure I corrected this...
I need to get some goddam control over my hormones
Thus began an intricate shell game of nude cardigan photos
Randomize