Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. I drunk emailed a professor on friday. Oh my god. Oh my god.
Yeah. We was talkin. Its ok. My bed is too filled with pam for sex. Its like a slip and slide of butter product.
my family just sang happy birthday to baby jesus. no ones even drunk yet
I'm not saying we can't have sex tonight, I'm just saying we have to work it around Lost.
I cant even remember his name or what he looked like. all I remember is what the tattoo on his forearm looked like.
well, he kindof looked like a walmart greeter. I tried to stop you
we knew you were done when they played It's All Coming Back To Me Now by Celine Dion and you started crying
I'm not going to need your "it doesn't mean you're a slut" pep talk after all.
We decided we needed a drinks fridge in our bathroom.
I'm drunk and you're awesome. let's stay this way forever.
My drug dealer just texted me that his kid had a rough sleep and was running late to deliver the ounce to my office. Totes adorbs.
My only expectation is honesty. And three orgasms every time.
i just watched a 7 minute video on people making a hot air balloon for their dog and i am a changed person
I felt like I crashed a wedding. Everyone was dressed so nice and I was covered in actual dirt and a little blood.
There we go, I shall begin my attempt to achieve whore status today
Theres a handprint of sauce on my fridge, one on my face, and a trail of it leading to my bedroom, and sauce all in my bed, and I have no idea what the fuck i ate.
Randomize
