we're getting ready to take strippers to breakfast. I love my life.
The shirt is mine, the pants are mine, the bra not so much
I wish we never smoked. I'm literally laying in bed opening and closing my eyes, just hoping a hot dog stand will appear in the room.
And there might be a gallon of sangria without the lid on the floor in your room. Just be careful when you open the door.
Its gonna be a symphony of fucks
And if I hated you I'd probably say things like, "I never want to speak to you again," or, "Eat a bag of dicks." That's how you'd know.
She kicked in my bedroom door in only high-heals with a bottle of wine, announcing it was "cock-o-clock"
You do realize how pathetic it is when the woman who does your bikini waxes has seen your vagina more than I have
All I remember is a very aggressive two-stepper who inadvertently made me give myself a black eye with my own beer
I love being high. The owl outside stopped who-ing and I could swear I just heard someone say, "Okay, that's a wrap!"
All I really remember is shouting "THANKS FOR LETTING ME MAKE OUT WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND."
What can I say? You have this amazing power over straight girls.
Yeah if I don't text back. I'm eating. sleeping. Or lifting. Or drinking. Or playing call of duty. Like shit man
I told my manager I was trying to conserve my energy for date night/Sexual Olympics later. That's legit for another break, right?
4 pharmacies and not one had Plan B. If this is gods way of telling me it's time for a child, he can fuck off.
And change of plans today, I'm gonna lay in bed and eat taco bell and try not to die. Brazilians another day.
Randomize
