I want the hot one, scratch that. anyone.
I'll sleep on the bed... The couch is now designated banging area. Any banging performed outside of that area will be subject to fines of cleaning up stains.
I have bruises on my ass from her spurs. God bless Texas.
He just referred to his foreskin as a snuggie. Help.
Hovering on the line between her being fuckable and me being too drunk to fuck. Life's juggling act in progress here.
The Angel on my shoulder is now resorting to merely reminding me that, "You will regret this later." I'm not sure if he's learning how I think or just giving up. Either way, should make life a bit more interesting.
The less money I spend on drugs, the happier my mom will be.
YOU NEED TO STOP BLOWING DUDES ON MY COUCH AT MY PARTIES
YOU NEED TO STOP PROVIDING TEQUILA AT YOUR PARTIES
And then I cried about the Cubs for a half hour. If my dignity hadn't already been lost by that point in the night, it sure as hell was then.
He's probably the biggest I've seen outside of the porn I vehemently deny watching and he asks if I think he's too small
If blow jobs were a super power she'd be in the Justice League.
No. Way more drunk than the night I put a snowball in my purse "for later" and woke up to find everything soaking the next day.
But less drunk than the day that Pete took four of your birth control pills thinking they were Advil, right?
Duck, Duck, Goose is now the autocorrect, safe for work version of fuck, fuck, loose.
It's something you'd find in the room outside of Ben Carson's sex dungeon
Actually I really wish that I was drinking so I could ask him for breakup sex and then later blame it on my alcoholic tendencies. Maybe tomorrow instead.
Randomize
