paul mccartney is starting to look like angela lansbury
Oh my god. I just envisioned myself eating panda meat. I need to get out of this class.
Oh. My. God. Best non-relationship, he-might-be-cheating-on-his-boyfriend-but-I-can't-tell-because-of-the-language-barrier sex EVER!
she keeps The Day After Pill in her bra... there is a God.
i gave her road head last night, needless to say it wasn't the same and i bit a chunk of the inside of my cheek off.
Just got booked to do a bachelorette party for a polygamist wedding. And notice I only text you to rub things in your face and show you my life shits on yours. Daily.
There is a bottle of ciroc waiting graciously on my breakfast table. It's almost a sign for me to live up to my Russian blood.
I don't care if there's a party or not. I just want to be half naked in a cape with a never-ending supply of alcohol within arm's length at all times. Make it happen.
Going through my purse trying to find money for this cab but all I keep pulling out if chicken from my burrito o ate an hour ago. Help?
I confess. I just downed the bottle of saki. And I'm singing phantom of the opera to the dogs. Be glad you're not here for the high notes.
I give up. I can't handle that class sober any longer. I have an army of whiskey shooters for the next three weeks. Wish me luck.
She's like the King Midas of sexual confusion. Everything she touches turns to gay.
this whole "benign brain tumor" is truly a blessing in disguise. I almost want to start bringing MRIs to the bar because sympathy pussy is flowing like the nile
I'm hiding in the bathroom at the library but there are children here I just want to drunk cry in peace
I didn't even respond. Just letting the crazy settle before I calmly fuck his shit up.
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