The next morning she woke up and asked who I was and where she was.
My Vagina smells like Nemo again.
and I'm going to name my autobiography "blow jobs with enthusiasm are the best"
I'm naming my autobiography "Reasons Not to Date Girls From Texas."
I spent my night drunkenly staring at a picture of John Stamos. How do you think I feel?
It's one of the reasons i'm here, along with emotional support, physical support if you need it, and power orgasms.
just found my diary from when i was 14. i demand a drinking game of this.
my mom just wingman'd for me at a bar. i really don't know what else to say.
disregard all texts ive sent you minus taco motherfucking bell
Things i learned at work today: do not put mayonaise on a tattoo, it will get infected.
I woke up in my living room, on the floor, wearing nothing but a fur coat?
All I'm sayin is that I don't want to raise anything. Or deal with anything. Or having anything come out of my vagina. I mean, I don't think that's asking too much.
I have the WORST hangover. Pretty sure my liver fell out while taking a dump. THAT bad.
so this maintenance guy stood at the corner of my cubical and scratched his balls for like a full minute cause he thought no one could see him
How hot? Like... how many hemsworths?
What? No, wine isn't my weakness, I just love it.
Randomize
