So I'm really hungover walking to work and these douches from comcast on bikes ask if they can take a picture with me to show that they're doing their job. The picture: me, this chick from comcast, i'm holding a 2 ft. pixie stick, a comcast flyer and i'm puking in the parking lot. sounds like their doing a good job!
let's skip the party, and just play drunken wii, again. its time to give my vag a break.
When you're on the hood of a car, 10 mph feels pretty fucking fast.
Party at my house. Liquor pinata. Your presence is required.
I need you to send me a picture of your dick. I want to forward it to that girl and you and i both know you're more impressively sized
A very small part of me wants you to appreciate me for more than just my breasts. But the rest of me is breasts.
I want to figure out a way to work "if you suddenly die, I might turn into an extreme hoarders" into my valentines day poem
playing nyquil roulette. it entails taking shots of nyquil and hoping it doesnt kick in during sex or in public. game on.
The bartender seems to not like the DD's anymore. I'm sad
The rest of the concert I just stared at the lights and didn't really listen to the music cuz I was trying to make sure my brain still worked cuz my face was numb and I couldn't move... Yeah I'm not a weed brownie person
I literally paid cover, got kicked out. Tried to explain that I was just clumsy, but mispronounced it. Then I got pissed off, stormed out..and clotheslined myself on a velvet rope. How was your night?
I just want to dump glitter on my floor and roll in it like a cat in catnip.
GUESS WHO STILL HAS BOTH NIPPLES!
At least you didn't wake up next to your professor who then proceeded to cancel class via phone while still inside of me.
Anyways enough about genital fatigue...
Randomize
