We may or may not have a drunk cat on our hands.
ew. I made a sandwich, and the cheese reminded me of her vagina
Stage 55 clinger. not a typo. I cannot even believe this shit.
So here i am dipping ice cream in my vodka and watching the bad girls club on demand. This is not ok
Apparently I covered myself in sunscreen before I went to bed. Im just assuming that due to the fact I found an empty bottle of sunblock
I find it very uncomfortable that I need to ask you to stop sending me pictures of your stomach
I want to buy her liposuction. And a spot on What Not To Wear. And a face transplant.
She's calming us down by shoving oreos in our mouths
He hasn't touched a vagina in two and a half years. THIS IS WAY TOO MUCH PRESSURE TO BE UNDER
If there was a card that said "I'm sorry for throwing up on your bathroom counter" I would send it to you.
But I made it seem like I wasn't hungover at work, so that's a plus.
Lest it die in the depths of eternal drunken recall denial...we peed in the street. Middle of the street. Simultaneously. Peed. Street. Middle of street.
the only decorations on the Christmas tree were twinkle lights, condoms, and empty natty cans. I do love a classy holiday party
There was puke outside of my classroom and lecture was half empty. Damn thirsty thursday is intense
He wanted to take me to breakfast in the morning. He told me he respects me after I said no. I told him to respect me at a distance.
Randomize
