I'm at breakfast still drunk holding a blow up parrot
He's the biggest piece of shit to ever exist. He's not even wearing shoes.
our landlord thinks we're weird & alcoholics. he came in to fix our broken tub and saw the laundry door on our table for beer pong, the garbage bag full of empty fifths, and that one armed baby on the doorstep. plus he saw us swimming and yargging in our pirate pool that one time.
She's the barista slut.
I just did the math. 30.36% of girls I've slept with have cheated on a significant other while doing it.
She won't let me open the car door while we are on the highway so I can throw up outside. She deserves to have her car thrown up in.
The ratio of last drink to last smoke is so tricky. This could go on until the booze is gone
I woke up sandwiched between them, all of us naked, and they were just sharing a cigarette, a donut, and the paper like it was just some normal post-threesome Sunday brunch.
I can't believe I'm giving you play by plays of this sexting convo. It's like a three way he doesn't know about.
I just took the batteries out of the xbox remote so she could replace the dead ones in her vibrator If that's not love I don't know what is
Vodka and cigarettes aside, my body is a temple.
So this is what it's like to wake up with someone else's blood in your nose...
Fucked him in his sketchy van in the Applebee's parking lot. In other news, my dry spell is over.
Think of it as a business transaction. That's how I justify all the horrible things I do. Blow my married boss? Just a business transaction.
Bra is off & I'm snuggled in a pizza. Adulting is good.
Randomize
