i turned job hunting into a drinking game..
i am not listening to taylor swift on a pink ipod. totally not happening.
i'm drinking with a bunch of phds, i feel very stupid but good about my drinking abilities
at least he lost his v-card with a bang... or should i say the clap.
The meeting is at the same hotel we go to for sex. Avoiding eye contact with all the staff there.
You know when you blow me it's the softest, most amazing feeling ever. Like putting my dick in a silk bag filled with puppy ears.
No, it wasn't really a sexy 'I'm going to go masturbate.' It was an 'I'm going to go masturbate' that implied I was going to drink a tall boy of Mikes and cry while I looked at lesbian porn.
There comes a point, as I lay on the floor of the work disabled toilets contemplating catching 10 minutes sleep between chunders, that I wonder if its really worth it
He should just accept that I want his dick and his friendship. Can't he understand that I don't do emotions?
I think I should just be a madame. Fuck it.
I'm just gonna post fliers on telephone poles like, "who wantsta be a hooooooe?!"
He must've been a bear in a previous life. My nipple is bleeding. Shit's sensitive.
It might be the most honest thing I've ever said. ...or I've had 3 vodka tonics.
I feel like people expect me to always be a sarcastic, shade throwing drunk. And you know me, I hate to disappoint.
million dollar idea: razor dispensers in bar bathrooms. your welcome, girls who didn't think they were getting laid tonight.
fucking him is like fucking old faithful. you could set your watch by his orgasms.
Randomize
