I read the police report. You asked the cop if you could use his in-car computer to update your facebook. No way you get out of a DUI.
A guy at the bar bought me a jag bomb because I'm the chick that frosts his donuts at KT. Never have I been more proud of being a failure at life.
Just found my mom passed out in my bed holding a bag of wine. Not sure if I'm ashamed or proud.
Is "incoherent" a legit goal to strive for tonight? Or should I stay sober enough to fuck who I can?
I've made a list of places I want to have sex this summer. #1: Reptile House at the zoo.
This is just what we do. We meet guys, go back to their place, smoke all their weed & go home to compete in out own version of Cupcake Wars.
I think my hookup is starting to fall for me. Time to break his heart.
At what point do you think my baptist preacher of a father will clue in that my brother "bringing a foreign exchange student" for thanksgiving means "bringing his european boyfriend and they'll probably fuck every night" for thanksgiving?
Our first order of business as new roommates was to test the sex acoustics of our rooms. I need a new box spring.
I hid a TracFone in her bra. We'll find her tomorrow.
I have already put on my inside pants.
I feel like too many of my sentences start of with "Hey, fuckface!"
I will go to bed dreaming of sexy Olympians carting me on a throne to the beach where they feed me pizza and champaign and massage my head/wash it like the hair dresser does.
The worst part is there are all kinds of happy creatures out here like fucking snow white and i'm sitting in semi-dead grass, hungover with a burnt butt
yes we're having sex but I'm texting you...so what does that tell you?
Randomize
