I could write a book called "things that come out of my vagina"
life is no where near the amusement park it was when I was on Vicodin.
You insisted on take shots off of plates.
The cops caught them pow wowing in the teepee at the entrance of the golf course at 5 am. But were still missing someone.
Apparently it's poor taste to ask for a break up blow job...in McDonald's. Also, that's not the best way to break the news either.
We've completely outdone ourselves. We packaged a collective total of six grams of pot and salvia into little bowl-sized tinfoil capsules. It's totally impossible to tell which is which without comparing, every Friday from now on we pick one out and see what the fuck happens
He was all like, "I've prayed every single day just for one more night with you."
Omg just give him a quick handy and walk out.
You had your dick do your apologizing for you last night. Apology accepted.
She told me a motorboat isn't successful unless they come out gasping for air. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!!
I'm dying. The alcohol is viciously exiting my tiny body.
I'll be in SoCal at my bachelorette party, aka embracing a fireman covered in KY and chocolate shavings.
The funny part was that the cop pulled us over cause the park was closed, not because I had just come up from giving the guy a blowjob when the cop drove by.
Your anal douche was on bathroom counter. Now it's in dumpster. Not ok. I am mad. Very mad.
In other news, I just sent her a video of me masturbating while driving in the rain, so I guess you could say I've mastered Snapchat
If I ever say "I'm never drinking again" just hand me a bottle of jack. I'll snap out of it.
Randomize
