I'm the only one here who isn't hooking up, coming out of the closet, or crying because of one of those 2 things.
things it involved: vodka, boy parts, possible photos of me on a cell phone. things it did NOT involve last night: my bra, his pants, and sobriety.
dude that girl has seen more cock ends then weekends
if he only knew that in between each sext i was puking.
I tried calming him down but his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and he's yelling "COMA WEED!"
I just scrubbed chocolate off the bathtub... You better have had a damn good birthday
I need a burrito and a hug.
I wasn't trying to be rude when I hurriedly walked past you, but I can not put in to words exactly how bad I had to shit.
She was bending and I said "finally, about time". Wrong, she was tying her shoe. No blowjobs for me.
He ripped off my pantyhose and all I could think was, "oh no those were clinic-appropriate!" That's what I get for ditching a continuing education meeting to go hook up with my scuba instructor.
I'm high and dancing to practical magic. Your needs for my penis can wait.
Our lives are a motherfucking joke
PS: bike ride of shame at 7am includes riding by kids waiting for the school bus #classy
The way I see it, there's 2 types of friends. Those you should do drugs with, and those you really,really shouldn't.
Shut up. You had me at killer robots. Your place or mine?
Randomize
