If I don't come home tonight, I've died in a pile of gay.
Just incase you were wondering, the count of ladies who have perioded on chairs at our fine restaurant is now at 3.
all of his pictures were taken on a library computer, how did you even consider fucking him?
Pretty sure I tied my shoes laces together to keep myself from driving drunk. Fell like six times. Keep forgetting
He's got a southern drawl and a lisp. I'm getting mindfucked right now.
Showering in my swimsuit in hopes of getting the beer smell out.
Did strip banana grams actually happen last night
My family will be here in an hour and I'm deciding between doing my makeup or saying fuck it and wearing what's left of last night's...
Okay so for future reference and your own safety I should probably tell you that it is not cranberry juice in that bottle on the kitchen table.
Just tapped my penis on the head and said "this will be your year buddy."
Dear God, please let me get my period. And if this one is fiercer than usual I completely understand.
The assignment was about the Industrial Revolution so I just screamed at them in a British accent all day. No, they didn't know I was hungover.
Your vagina is not a steamboat from the 1800's
Only I could dislocate my ribcage coaching volleyball and still want to get drunk tonight.
so does the amount of bruises on my arms and legs mean we had fun last night?
Randomize
