the last thing i remember is unlocking the door. its like i was literally opening the door to my blackout
Intervention is following me on twitter.
wow.
are you excited because you wanna see me or because you wanna get laid?
bc i get to see you. naked.
I don't care how old I am, if it's your 21st birthday I'm going to make out with you.
It's like even though I'm not in college anymore my body still knows it's September and is putting itself into competitive binge drinking mode.
I found an HIV test/information brochure on the kitchen table and what i can only assume to be an "I'm sorry you might have AIDS" gift bag, complete with a candle and popcorn, and I haven't seen you in 36 hours. You good?
When your boyfriends ex-girlfriend texts you to see what you're wearing to his sister's wedding that you were not invited to, nor knew about. I think it's time to call it quits.
Sit down my child. It's time you were told of my famous loss-of-virginity story entitled, "The Penis that Never Could."
Body paints and jello. Your canvas awaits
Another sexterpiece awaits
The last thing I remember is him yelling from across the room "WE FINISHED THE HANDLE!"
It was 11pm.
I told two kids in their homecoming outfits to use a condom because of Ebola. I may have saved a life last night
did you just correct my grammar and then send me a photo of your dick?
I mean I'd assume the strange looks are on account of the fact that I'd imagine people normally don't stink of booze on an 8:14am flight.
My school has hired a professional rum bottle juggler for our dining hall this evening.
i now regret my decision on turning down your offer of sex in the backseat
Randomize
