So at this point...I'm sure you heard the story about Saturday night
dont try to nair your balls. i speak from experience
There's a girl sitting in front of me making a PowerPoint on Jack Bauer.
i just realized i put more money and effort into 420 then i did for christmas
I think I just accidentally agreed to become a surrogate for a gay couple
My brain is foggy with friends reruns and him licking hummus off my tits.
why is my underwear the only thing i was wearing that smells like vodka?
He waited until after foreplay to tell me that he didn't have a condom and "we" would just have to settle for a bj tonight...
All i really wanna do tonight is get drunk with you and dance on tables. is that too much to ask?
just peed on my shirt somehow, im calling it a day
I'm the one on the patio wearing underwear. Holding a pipe. Pigtail and glasses. Can't miss me.
He must be a special kind of stupid to cheat on a women who works at a funeral home. Does he not understand you can get rid of dead bodies easier than most Americans?
I need to learn how to not be a fucking liability
The moral of the story is this:the last shot of the night is always a mistake
Seriously considering taking a nap at lunchtime in my car. That. Hung. Over.
Randomize
