I may or may not have just irish jigged at a bar. And broken out in a sweat from it. Not a good sign for that marathon yo.
I did the walk of shame to another booty call
I don't think that should turn me on, but it does
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
Am I allowed to make my facebook status "loves farting in chairs"? I think it would shock every boy that I am friends with.
A horse told me not to drive home last night. I think there was a cop on top of it.
I feel like I was just dunked in a tub of beer and then thrown in a giant dryer with rocks in it.
My dealer threw in a "freestyle rap" today with my purchase. I dont know if I can handle this relationship.
Your expertise in crazy bitches is needed.
They poured beer (3 cans) down the toilet so bubbles can be drunk in fishy heaven
I'm in that weird half-dead, half fucked-simultaneously-in-every-orifice-by-a-bus-and-it-wasn't-a-good-time state.
I just remembered something. Did we really all flash the cab driver to get half off?
I stared at him for a solid five minutes because he looked like what I imagine god would look like if god was a lumberjack
I told my coworker that I'd get him some edibles because he wants to rekindle his marriage. I'd better get some good karma out of this.
I'm having a hard time eating my sandwich knowing how many different buttholes my hands were in last night.
Also, apparently I'm only coherent when I'm drunk sexting. And then I'm grammatically perfect and impressively eloquent.
Randomize
