It's just you. You wear the fuck me fedora and wear baller shorts, hollywood hippie who thinks she is shakira when she's drunk.
I'm outside your house...sorry I feel like I don't need formal invites anymore.
I woke up to 'call me' written in red lipstick on my chest. Thats the hottest/sluttiest thing ever. I win at LIFE!
I think I have vodka in my lungs
Living room yoga. I'm too hungover to deal with anyone else's chi today.
I know. My only sports are biking to buy drugs and running from the police.
She just shoved like three McNuggets in her mouth and started sobbing and I have no idea what's going on.
What's the standard Christmas present for six months of booty calls?
Mobile recharge?
This chick had a microhand. Fucking, like, jerking off a baby carrot would make it look like corn.
The "don't have sex with him again" alerts you set on my phone just started going off.
Good. "Seriously, don't do it" should start in about five minutes.
I danced with this guy last night, I left like I was humped by a blind baby kangaroo trying to body-box.
I forgot drug dealers have families, too. Cheers to a sober, uncomfortable, slightly enraging Thanksgiving.
I might as well just sew it shut at this point.
On a scale from 1-10 how wrong is it to request "I Hit It First" at my ex's wedding reception?
Definite 12.2 but worth it.
I think he has some internal "man stuff" that keeps getting in the way.
Like alcoholism and general douchbagary.
Randomize
