fighting downstairs. join me tonight to hear their makeup sex. also, let's make skittles vodka.
I ate one of your animal crackers. just one. ok four. but no frosting. ok frosting.
i'm crying at olive garden. i've hit rock bottom
i spelled "betch" that way on purpose, don't question my abilities as a drunk texter
It's Christmas week. I wouldn't know what to do if i wasn't hung over.
Yep. Just threw myself a bachelorette party with my coworkers penis before I re-enter the holy order of monogomous relationships.
my sober ride is dancing w/ a fat girl. i might be awhile
My eyes feel like they're throwing up and I am the only human on campus
Was my shirt on fire at any point last night? Because I'm fairly sure my shirt was on fire.
Saxophones in my mind. I swear someone dosed me.
It was like a Thanksgiving meal, which you spend 8 hours cooking, and the family wolfs down in 20 minutes. All that flirting and build-up for like 90 seconds of pumping and he was gone in a flash, never to be heard from again.
He fell backwards into a full bathtub but didn't spill a single drop of the beer in his hand. What a pro.
I don't need no damn man when I have the cock-a-nator 2000.
Guy in my class today said, "I'm pretty sure you think about beer 95% of the time."
Yeah I know my dick is weird, but I've surprisingly had a lot of fun with it.
Randomize
