i'm at the st pattys day thing. the bar is packed. they just put on celine dion its all coming back to me now. i'm screaming the words.
it's 1 pm.
and now that ive poetically compared your vagina to a nuclear missile, I hope youre prepared for this date.
She didn't talk for 45 minutes. We finally convinced her to open her mouth. There was a flower in there.
I'm skyping with my parents and reading Cosmo articles on giving great head. I'm on a roller coaster that only goes up, baby.
I'm in charge of his party but you're a paramedic, we're both needed.
Last night he asked the cab driver "if you were in the middle of getting tattooed and the tattoo artist suddenly got a boner would you leave or would you get that boner??"
Time flies when you're blacked out in a lake
The forecast for tonight is alcohol and low expectations.
You're the only meteorologist I listen to.
So I'm not dead, but close call. I think I can handle one more bar.
I seriously think I may just have to live here. In this bed. Naked.
all i tweeted was "emergency this is not a drill" and he immediately texted me asking if this was a subtle booty call…it was
My day so far: morning after pill and pancakes. Living the dream.
He held my hair back for me while i vomited in my driveway last night and i repayed him by farting mid-heave.
I just dropped a chicken nugget on the floor and seriously prayed that it would be ok....I think this job is making me crazy.
Questions: How did Rachel get home? Why did I find both her ID's in my shoes? And does anyone know if she's alive?
Randomize
