I just tipped a bartender in xanax.
We are possibly on our way, unless we see the limo full of strippers.
Nothing kills the mood when I am hooking up on the dance floor like the DJ saying Happy Valentines.
I feel like a squirrel prepping for the winter on dollar beer nights.
I've decided to be proactive and make a sex playlist on my phone to avoid any awkward moments in my upcoming slutty summer
The vagina on Hilton Head is mighty fine this time of year.
I've never been so embarrassed. It's like waking up as Fred Durst.
Before I left he insisted on serenading me with a ukalele. I might be a little bit in love
So it's always a good weekend when you don't get any sleep, try opening a bottle of wine on rocks, and end up needing a tetanus booster for our stupidity... Same thing next weekend?
Your couch is like an animal shelter for stray drunks.
He wouldn't let me ride him with a Ninja Turtles hat on...
Dinner at my parents is vodka, lemonade, cheese ad crackers. Why would I leave?
You know, I think I'm going to rock the shit out of this whole mid-twenties thing. Fuck babies and weddings -- I have vodka and young cock.
Just checked in with my friend who walked in on us. He thinks you two had a spiritual connection and he's bugging out
He was also rolling face on molly so his perception of divinity might be slightly off
Do exhausted, barely concealed hand jobs count as joining the mile high club?
Randomize
