To say he's a good fuck is like saying the beatles had a bit of success. My vag is still mourning the fact he moved.
whatever. as long as im no longer referred to as the girl who fucked the pledge on his big brother's couch.
You sprayed lysol all over me. You said that my soberness was infecting your night.
The slot machines are wishing me happy birthday. Mission success.
I'm glad they extended train service last night. People crying, screaming, throwing up, fighting and peeing themselves on a train made me feel like I've got my shit together.
What part of I'm done do you not understand? Im not going to send you sex photos to prove I've moved on..
also, made a drinking game out of my birthday photos....drink everytime alcohol is in a photo. going through all 350 of them.
Half of my brain feels like I donated it to science and they basically just poured jack Daniels on it and put out cigarettes into it before returning it to my skull
I also love my swipe to text changed a singular vagina to a plural vaginas. like my phone somehow knows I secretly want 2 vaginas
I need a drink and a shade of lipstick that will put the fear of God in a man's heart.
Halloween: the only night of the year wheee the more high I get, the more it compliments my makeup and outfit.
Hey, Would it be ok if me and your wife have a ladies only night and masturbated on FaceTime together?
WE JUST PASSED A FUCKING SPACE SHIP! NOT JOKING! A REAL FUCKING SPACE SHIP! THIS IS NOT THE DRUGS! SPACE! SHIP!
I went in the hotel's jacuzzi fully clothed, threw up in the bathroom half an hour later and woke up naked next to Dr. Seuss' "Oh the Places You'll Go"
He casually compared computer science to childbirth and I was like "hey, as someone who has wanted to fuck you for six months now, could you please never talk about childbirth ever again"
Randomize
