I discovered the grieving process is shock, denial, anger...and then something about drinking until you puke on yourself
Every now and then I'll talk to a creeper for an extended amount of time. Randy, for instance, funded our entire night of horrible decisions.
Dude. No way. She insults the term butterface. She's a butternothing.
So the bartender just told me that there was numerous people who saw me having sex on the rooftop last weekend. +1
No, no... it's pale and surrounded by awkward, curly, red hair. It's the Ronald McDonald of penises.
I vaguely remember making out with his tattoo (?) and giving him an awesome massage and then I passed out on his floor. Shrug
Oh god. I asked to "play his sexaphone" which I though was a super sex way to say "let me blow you". He fucking walked home at 4:30am
I'm prostituting myself for tickets to Disney World. There's a contradiction there.
I'm sorry I pissed in your bedroom and then woke you up when I tried to jump off the balcony
He said I have a comfortable vagina. What does that even mean?
The power of my boobs compel you
He can kiss the multicultural 3 some goodbye
I just want cinnabon and vodka.
I had cheese pancakes which is pretty much just melting cheese in a frying pan and then eating it except youre in denial that your life is a wreck
are you drinking tonight?
I have an exam tomorrow
so yes.
Randomize
