Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
dude you apologized to her after she called you stupid. you were like "no i'm sorry, you shouldn't have to be around stupid people, it's my fault"
They just sang me a song about how small my dick is in front of the whole bar
well, 500 bucks doesn't grown on trees, and i need that bear suit for any chance of vagina access.
You stood next to him taking HUGE gasps of air in an attempt to second hand smoke his cig because you didn't have one...
I just discovered the Reese's pieces and sourdough bread sandwich. No signs of coming down.
We need to go back to the barter system so I can sell my body and just be done with it.
He kicked in the door just as I climbed on top of him...and stood there. I felt like I was in a porn. It was invigorating.
I went full Overly Attached Girlfriend. You never go full OAG.
someone snapchatted me a porn of two guys dressed up as pterodactyls double teaming a girl
I'm not sure why, but my salad smells like a Big Mac. Or maybe that's just the smell of yesterday's, seeping through my skin.
Just zoned back in to real life and found myself chanting "noodle eater noodle eater noodle eater" at my parrot as he devoured a single macaroni
You probably shouldn't do that...but if you do take pictures
you said, "the pool was totally tequila. and i left my shoe halfway across town. and by shoe i mean car" it appeared to me that you didn't have your shoes or car.
I have to charm this cab driver. Hold on.
Randomize
