You passed out in the bathroom with the door locked. Had to take a shit in your litter box. Don't worry, your cat buried it for me.
we need a dd. For wednesday. At lunch. What are we doing with our lives?
succeeding
I know. They started calling me The Incident. The hotel maids, that is.
Tequila bombs in champagne seemed like a good idea at the time.
My nipple ring got caught on the rug again. Tequila makes me unlearn these things
its fine. mom just made me chug a long island. and made a crying face when i balked. we'll talk tomorrow.
So we have also come to the conclusion that slam piece Saturday's are the appropriate follow ups to find a husband Fridays
With a few pieces of metal and duct tape and a bong was created
We should just do therapy together, clearly we have all the same issues. It's why we are friends.
All I'm sayin is that I don't want to raise anything. Or deal with anything. Or having anything come out of my vagina. I mean, I don't think that's asking too much.
Please tell me I made it home with both shoes on
Nope
My vagina has a heartbeat. That means I'm in love, right?
Is there one of me peeing? If so do I look bangable in it
Memeber that time you got detained in Poland. We don’t talk about that enough
I love you, but seriously, that was way too long a thesis on an Arby’s curly fry being wrapped around schlong!
Randomize
