I feel like if your cat could talk she would call me a cunt.
Omg just want to confirm: got drunk, naked in street, fucked in bathroom and puked on bart.
puked in the new hous. now it's officially home.
I'm someone's dream girl. I'm hungover in this guy's bed wearing ONLY a Brian Westbrook jersey. Not the same I was on a date with last night.
we have 69 mutual friends...i have to add her
He told me the hand job I gave him this morning was "lovely".
So even though we broke up apparently according to my voice mail you still like me, with smurfs while riding on a boat.
rumor has it I kept asking you to go to the "tall grass" with me...sorry about that.
I danced with this guy last night, I left like I was humped by a blind baby kangaroo trying to body-box.
My actions are not mine. They are the actions of Patron.
That kid singlehandedly fucked the breakup right out of me. I'm only hooking up with Millenials from here on out.
I could have been on my second lucrative divorce by now, but nooooo, I had to be a strong independent woman.
Where is everybody?
It's pretty much split between the strip club and jail.
He knocked me over backwards in my chair. I had a beer in each hand. Didn't spill a drop.
Had a dream last night where I asked you how your Christmas was and your response was, “sex, man. Just lots and lots of sex.”
Good god. A spell so dry your friends actually commit it to their subconscious!
Randomize
