I just looked at my iPhone gps history... "the gas station", "the park with a big scary fence", "the trampoline", and, my favorite, "where we were when we were about to do lines off a bible".
i'd be lying to you if i said i didn't just bring up microsoft excel to make an alcohol budget
3 things. 1. is this real life 2. my liver hates me 3. keg race tonight
It's official, I need to start putting my vagina's needs before my own.
So he says "my girlfriends coming over so you have to leave but I love you"
I'm closer to stabbing a fork in my neck than finishing this resume.
Our sibling relationship has really blossomed into a wonderful mutual acceptance of sluttyness
I think you just described to us the most perfect drunken fairy tale that has somehow never been written
Just threw up in the trash can at my desk. I guess "beating the hangover" eventually leads to this.
Congrats you've received dick pics from an Olympic silver medalist
i feel like i shouldn't just had to send a text that said "no i will not eat your ass"
I've had pants off for 3 hours now. America.
Wait, like drink with real Phil. Or Phil, the cat that sometimes lived in your closet in Myrtle Beach?
She’s fine. Found her in the bathtub eating Cheerios and watching Rugrats on an iPad.
His idea of hot sex is sticking his finger in my dark star while doing me Missionary style. You can tell he's from the Bible Belt.
Does he smell like BBQ?
Inside and out.
Randomize
