last night was a success...if success means i don't remember the guy's name and my panties are somewhere in the parking lot behind the bar
When he brought me into his room he showed me his James Bond calendar and matching sheets, and then told me that his goal in life is to be James Bond….epic fail. Mission Impossible. I was scared to take off his boxers to find out that they were also James Bond themed.
RUN LIKE YOUR JAMES BOND
He wanted me to blow him while he was playing guitar hero. there will not be a second date
The is a pregnant woman in this Chipolte wearing a shirt that simply says ‘OOPS!’ across the tummy.
That baby is bound to be under-loved.
We'll both be dead in approximately 72-96 hours, with you bringing your liver out of retirement again, Favre.
Sometimes I wonder why I hang out with you. And then you show up half naked at my door with a half gal of vodka, and I remember why.
Judging by his buldge, this guy is huge. just paid steve to follow him into the bathroom and find out. They had a convo about it.
I think we can all look back on last night and categorize it under, " reason why Cory can't be left at the bar by himself"
Based off the amount of cat hair on my poncho....i stole a cat last night.
You shouldn't do laundry high cus pink.
All of my exes are either overweight and neckbearded or dead. Someone out there is looking out for me.
Never in a million years thought I would have to put jello shot recipe/equation into an excel spreadsheet
I have an aggressive hickey on my shoulder and it actually hurts.
My favorite bra is missing and I smell like beer and bad decisions. This is definitely a sign that hoe mode is activated.
Grandma said I got a good handjob. I think she meant manicure.
Randomize
