I want Jason Statham to talk British to my vagina.
I just had a flashback of 4:30am: me hugging the toilet bowl and you handing me a jar of pickles to open. There is something seriously wrong with us.
I saw him coke blaxckout on the subway at 9 this morning yelling at people callig himself the gatekeeper.
I'm at the point in my life where I'm trying to get guys I've fucked to give a ride to guys I'm going to fuck.
I've started a list of places i want to drink. To go along with the list of places i want to have sex. Lincoln's log cabin is on both.
Nothing bad can happen when you have a kiwi flavored condom. Absolutely nothing.
She had cheddar bay biscuits in her purse. Biscuits, Id and cash. I'm gonna marry her.
This is going to ruin my future wedding planner career, but isn't it better the groom knows he's gay BEFORE he gets married?
Everyone was passed out so I turned off the lights and locked all the doors. I also took the chicken sandwich in the microwave as payment.
You know it's been a successful day when the only reason you put on a bra was to take off your shirt
On a not really funny at all but kinda brighter note I've gotten really good at texting in hand cuffs
no. i discovered the *exact* amount of drugs i need to do to understand calculus.
And literally 4loko margaritas are callin my name. They're like "Hey girl come on over here I'll make you forget about grades and boys and it'll be a good idea to send everyone 55 snapchats of your cleavage" ok
I can't believe i lost my ID... bringing my birth certificate to the club was a weird experience
cake and sex. what better combination is there.
Randomize
