I'm so fucking pissed that I wasted my shooting star wish on him and his little penis.
i have no concept of time, i feel my nose, and im seeing everything in bitty hexagons.
using my metrocard to split lines. it says optimism on the back. i am optimistic that you will appear at my door and help me finish all these drugs.
At what point were we discussing suction-cupping a dildo to the wall?
I know its hard to believe that I'm already drunk at 12 p.m. but I am, so dont call me asking to go to the gym.
There is a newly found video on my phone of me following you to the bathroom to watch you throw up. sorry I didn't hold your hair
He brought a girl home so fat he called me before they got home to unlock the right side of the French doors
Fuck he won the bet
Telling someone to make good decisions on a Thursday is like telling Santa to be Jewish.
Your vase full of piss was still at his house and he still doesn't know.
That's not a current picture, because if you look deep enough into my eyes you can still see morals. Not these days.
You've lost booty call privileges between the hours of 10pm and 8am.
I appreciate having someone to objectively critique my dick pics.
I'm sending him pics of me in my new lingerie telling him to come over and when he gets here I'll have changed into like sweats and a 5 year old shirt with ketchup stains on it
It was funny for a while but 3 days later I still can't walk and I've constructed a diaper-like contraption to hold the ice pack on my vagina.
Call me Sherlock Holmes, bitch.
Randomize
