um. i met him on myspace...we text now, he lives down the street
Okay so if I'm going to keep referring to my hangover in the third person it needs a name.
It was the classiest, most strategic and inspired vomiting I've ever witnessed. Like a blind mans first sunrise. A priests first prayer. Or a virgins first orgasm.
I can't even remember the last time I took my own pants off
His dick is hereby named Charles Dickens. Will's is less cerebral. I'd like to call it Pinnacle like the vodka we drank when we hooked up, but I feel like that's a compliment it doesn't deserve.
Pictures of drunk me in a bike helmet are like McDonald's collectible toys. There's sooo many, but NO ONE has seen all of them.
What is soo wrong about a house of half-naked people hugging each other and laughing?
The pinata full of drugs?
That's not a current picture, because if you look deep enough into my eyes you can still see morals. Not these days.
Yes but funny for a 45 year old hell bent on reliving her college days by giving body shots and hand jobs. Not necessarily in that order
All you need is a handful of lube and an open mind
Why so philosophical about cake and sex this morning?
now to finish some work and then i think i'll work out. or garden. or at the very least I'll continue eating frozen grapes and take more drugs
We never leave a bad bitch behind. its a party foul..we'll find you somehow
my grocery cart consisted of hershey bars, sour patch kids, starbursts, mayo, 4 frozen pizzas, 4 lunchables, and chips. clearly, i can't do this on my own.
thank you for being so understanding of my weak stomach and poor self-control
Randomize
